


Songstress

by CrystalMoonlightI



Series: Songstress - A Tale of Three Houses [1]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Childhood Friends, Church of Seiros (Fire Emblem), Conspiracy, Drama & Romance, F/M, Family Drama, Family Feels, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route, Friendship/Love, Kissing, Love Confessions, Love Triangles, POV First Person, Romance, Swordplay, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:15:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23867389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrystalMoonlightI/pseuds/CrystalMoonlightI
Summary: My name is Rolan. I'm nobody important - just a common-born lad from the Leicester Alliance; the son of simple parents with a humble birthright. My life finally took a turn when I was given the chance to attend Garreg Mach Monastery. I didn't feel as though I belonged there at first. Not until I laid eyes upon a gorgeous songstress; Dorothea of the Black Eagle house.(A Three Houses tale with branching visual novel-style storylines. There will be a heavy romantic focus pre-timeskip. This first story acts as a buildup to the each of the different routes. I have storylines planned for all three houses, with the Black Eagle tale already underway. Thank you for your readership! I hope you enjoy!)
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Original Character(s), Edelgard von Hresvelg/Original Character(s), Hilda Valentine Goneril/Original Character(s), Petra Macneary/Original Character(s)
Series: Songstress - A Tale of Three Houses [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1720060
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	1. Dorothea

**Author's Note:**

> I figured it was about time I dabbled in some Three Houses fanfiction. This story is simple and ever so slightly romantic. I put it together in a couple of hours. Let me know if you enjoy it or you'd like to see more. I decided to focus on creating a simple protagonist and focusing on interactions this time.
> 
> Oh, and if you're looking for an epic Fire Emblem Fates tale to read, why not check out A Night with Corrin - another story of mine focused on a Hoshidan swordsman and the dragon princess. Anyway, let's begin. Shall we?

The world is bound by a fragile peace between three mighty kingdoms. I never believed such trivial matters would ever mean anything. After all, I'm nobody important - just a common-born lad of the Leicester Alliance. The son of common parents and humble birth. My ma's a simple dressmaker and my father's a baker. He makes bread for the kitchens of House Goneril. I imagined I'd follow in the footsteps of my old man and take up the family trade. So you can well imagine my surprise when he one day slapped a big old bag of gold on the table at dinnertime.

"Son," he told me with a proud smile. "It's your eighteenth birthday. Me and yer mother have been talking for a while now. Fer years we've been setting aside money for the day you came of age. And we've come to a decision. You deserve a better than we ever got. We're sending you to the fancy academy at Garreg Mach Monastery. You've always been happier with a sword than a rolling pin. Aim for the skies. Goddess willing, laddie. Become a bodyguard fer a noble. Live well. Above all else... Be happy."

Father's dearest wish is for me to be whatever I choose to be; to grow into a man unbound by the ways of class. Now don't get me wrong. I appreciate it 'n all, but since arriving in Garreg Mach I've always felt outta place. It ain't my classmates making me feel this way. Oh not at all. Sir Claude's a welcoming fellow; always easygoing; a fantastic schemer to boot. Not to mention our professor Byleth - she's an encouraging and friendly enough lady.

I dare say my heart thunders just looking at her.

But I just... don't feel like I belong in a place like this. Most of the students at Garreg Mach are noble sorts. Heirs and heiresses. They're either born and raised bluebloods, or devout followers of Seiros. I'm neither of those things.

I'm a lad who's spent too much time training with the soldiers at Goneril barracks when I should've been kneading bread for the ovens. I've not made a single friend since arriving here. And I'm one of the oldest first year students too. I dunno. I don't wanna let Pop down after all he's done for me. But maybe... Maybe I ain't cut out for this. I feel out of my depth.

I need to get out of my room; a walk will clear my head. Taking a deep breath, I rest my sword on the rack beside my door. It's usually calm by the lake this time in the evening. Might be a good chance to squeeze in a spot of fishing before the monks call curfew too. Heck, it's a finer idea than sitting here and feeling sad for myself. I ain't the sort who enjoys getting weighed down by my feelings. It's a problem I've never been good at solving.

* * *

Sunset's lovely orange glow makes the surface of the water sparkle. The fish swim and flop about. And a cool breeze works wonders in steadying my thoughts. There are plenty of nice things here in the monastery if a fella knows where to look. The waterfront is one of them - without a doubt.

Taking in the lovely scenery for all it's worth, I let my troubles fritter away. "Sorry father... I'll do my best 'n make sure I don't Ma down."

I've gotta keep on here and do the both of them proud. Even if I am a commoner among nobles - even if I don't have much in the way of friends. A man needs to keep his pride intact of nothing else.

A girl's sobbing carries over the breeze. She sounds well and truly heartbroken. I look off in the direction of the sound. And that's when I see her with my own eyes. A tall lass with smooth, curly brown hair and a gentle, snowy white complexion. She gazes tearfully into the sunset, holding a black cap to her chest. Her skirt uniform and leggings appear scruffy and creased.

Has she been hanging around her all day?

It's not my place to go prying into her business; but her crying is utterly breaking my heart. I've always hated to see a woman wrought with anguish. My older sister poured her heart out for weeks on end when her husband to be went off to fight the Almyrans; poor fella never came home. If I can do something to ease this lassies' pain (no matter how small) I gotta try.

"Excuse me, Miss," I begin softly, heading on over. She dries her eyes hastily as I join her; she looks pretty darn panicked to see me. I do hope I didn't intrude. "Is everything alright? I simply couldn't bare it; hearing you so beside yourself..."

Her lips rise into a weak smile, "I am now," she replies. "B-But don't let my problems bother you. I'm just lost in my head again... It's a habit of mine." The girl puts her cap back on, dabbing away the tears with a handkerchief from her coat pocket. "T-Thank you for checking on me all the same."

The girl bows politely in thanks, "My name's Dorothea. I'm part of the Black Eagle House - the only commoner. But I'm sure you've heard of me before. Most around these parts have."

 _Dorothea?_ I rack my brains and give her name some consideration. My mind runs a blank no matter how deeply I think.

"Sorry Miss," I shake my head, "But no. Can't say I have. I'm just the son of a baker. Spent most of my life tucked outta the way in Goneril. My old man serves Miss Hilda's family as a baker..."

I don't know why I went and blurted out so much of my family life. But I had to say something. It feels mighty silly coming over to a young lady as demure as this one without much to say. Last thing I want is to sound like a blithering idiot.

"O-Oh... Is that so?" But to my surprise, Dorothea chuckles. She reaches out and clasps my hand. She's soft and warm. Reminds me of a girl I once took to the fair back home. "Color me surprised. You haven't heard of the Mittlefrank Opera Company at all?"

"Can't say I have. Focused most of my time on swordplay and baking bread as a young lad... My life was fairly quiet until I got here."

"Tell me," Dorothea continues, giving my hand a comforting squeeze. "What's your name? I haven't seen you around before... You'd think I would've. Strapping fellow like yourself, with such a sharp face and wavy black hair. Gosh... I've been missing out on the good ones."

My heart kicks in my chest. It's been a real long time since a lady's said something so sweet to me. And especially one so darn beautiful.

"Rolan. Rolan Gesalt. A Simple and boring name, I know. Got it from my grandfather."

"Well then, Rolan..." Dorothea brings my hand against her cheek. She smiles warmly and flutters her eyelashes; I feel hot under the collar. "You've been a real sweetheart... There aren't many men who care about my feelings instead of my looks. Your concern means a lot to me."

I can't help but get lost in Dorothea's eyes. The longer I look at her, the harder it gets to pull away. I could stay with her like this until the midnight moon rises high into the sky. Even so... I have to keep my senses. "Why were you crying, Dorothea? I've never happened upon a lady so wounded before..."

"Don't fret over little me," she answers softly, inching closer and closer. "I just worry, that's all. Will an urchin girl like me ever find her place in this big old world? I ask myself too many scary questions. It gets me down sometimes..."

I should speak from the heart. I should reassure her, stranger or no. "I think a lady like yourself should strive for whatever she wants. You shouldn't cry... whatever troubles darken the day. It's a terrible waste. You're kind. After all, you could've ignored me when I came over. But you didn't."

" _I-I'm kind_ ," Dorothea whispers. She coils her arms over my shoulders; cuddling me tightly. I breathe in her perfume; my head swims at the peak of delight. "It's nice of you to sweet-talk me... but be careful who you trust. If you knew the real me, Rolan, you wouldn't be so nice. I might break your heart."

I couldn't care less, "I'll politely refuse, from one commoner to another. Hardly anyone's given me the time of day since I arrived at the monastery. So- I suppose what I'm saying is-" I pause nervously, "I'm grateful to have bumped into you out lhere. I won't forget it. Even if don't cross paths again in my time here. Thank you for talking with me tonight; for being my friend."

Dorothea holds on tightly; it's almost like she's afraid to let me go. For the longest time we stay together like this, joined as one. Who would've thought the first person I felt truly drawn to would turn up so suddenly? I should thank my lucky stars.

"I could kiss you for being so sweet, Rolan." But despite her words, Dorothea backs away. She gives me a respectful bow and bids me farewell. "But maybe- Just maybe... Let me pose a question; a little game of sorts," she continues, turning to face me one last time. She winks teasingly.

"If I weren't attractive... would you still welcome me? Even if I were plain and boring would you listen to my problems? Am I more to you than a pretty face?"

I don't need to think twice to find my answer.

"That's three questions," I smirk "I would. And of course you are, Dorothea. A person's looks aren't the be all and end all. My Ma's a seamstress; she was lovely enough to be a noble consort when she was younger. And she married my pudgy old father. The two of them adore each other."

Dorothea blushes at my words, "I prayed you'd say something like that. Men like Lorenz and Sylvain could learn a lot from a gentleman like you. Have a good evening, Rolan. It's been a pleasure meeting you." She blows me a kiss. "Take care..."

Without another word, the mysterious girl turns and heads off in the direction of the dorms.

I'm left alone in the moonlight. And for the first time in so long, I feel strong and hopeful.

There are some kind people here at Garreg Mach after all.

"I hope I see you again, Dorothea..."

Something about her makes me light-headed.

The poets say chance meetings awaken new perspectives. After tonight? I'd have to agree with them.

Being here at Garreg Mach is my one chance to change things. I doesn't matter if I don't belong. All that matters is I succeed.

** To be continued... **


	2. Hilda

No way can I let doubt shake me again. I know what I want; I'm happy as a student of the monastery.

I awoke early this morning for combat practice before Professor Byleth's lecture. There's nothing more gratifying than the burn of adrenaline brought by swordplay. It helps clear my mind and senses alike. When I'm here at the training grounds I'm more than simple Rolan, the baker's son. I'm taking slow and careful steps toward my dream of becoming a noble's bodyguard. If I stay focused I'll one day find my path.

Tending ovens my whole life is the last thing I want. I see the highborn students here and in some ways I greatly admire them. They have control over their lives. They aren't bound by tradition. They're free to do whatever they please without issue.

There's no greater gift in my eyes.

"Have to concentrate." I stand tall and swing my blade; it cleaves the air like a hot knife through butter. "This is my chance to become more than I'm destined to be. I can't stop; I won't stop. No matter what... I will succeed."

The chime of church bells signals an end to my peace and quiet. I slip away my sword and prepare for a new day. Classes await; we have Group Tactics Studies this morning, followed by Magic Theory this afternoon. A busy schedule for sure. I truly hope I cross paths with Dorothea again too. Our moment by the lake filled me with gladness. She's one of the only people whom I'm acquainted with in this large and sometimes lonely academy.

"Gotta get going, Rolan."

I heave open the sturdy wooden doors of the training grounds. Morning sunlight warms my face. It's time I get to class. Nobody enjoys being the last person to a lecture. Well, unless you're happy having everybody stare. There are some at this academy who prefer being the centre of attention.

* * *

Professor Byleth jots down theories on the chalkboard. Most everyone is listening intently, but I swear I saw Raphael sneak a bite of sandwich when Teacher's back was turned. He wants to be careful to not get caught. Granted I don't have much room to complain. My grades outside of Single Combat Practice and Duelling Theory aren't exactly the best. Not to mention I'm just a first year. He's been here far longer than me.

A note finds its way across my table. I wait for Professor to turn her back before sliding it under the bench. Hilda flashes me a wink from the other side of the table, gesturing for me to read. I unfold the scruffily folded note:

 _Hey Rolan,_ it starts. _I was just wondering if you could do a girl a teeny-tiny favour. I had all of my tomes nicely organised on the table in my room, but I knocked them off reaching for a perfume bottle this morning. It's gonna be such a pain fixing them; too much work. And you're a strong fella. Mind stopping by my room after classes and fixing them up? I'd ask Raphael, but he's going into town with Ignatz for dinner. It'd be real sweet of you. Hilda x x x._

This is the first time Hilda has spoken to me since I arrived at the monastery. I wouldn't say we're friends or anything of the sort. But I'm acquainted with her. Mother and Father did a lot of work at the Goneril Estate; dressmaking; baking bread for formal dinners and the like. They took me along most of the time. More often than not I ended up doing chores for Hilda while they went about their jobs.

Not that helping out a noble girl was the worst job in the world. Heck, she once gave me a hug for my trouble; I was even paid a few gold coins. Now, don't get me wrong - I don't want money for my troubles. But maybe a little work after class will stop my thoughts from wandering to Dorothea.

As silly as it sounds, I keep thinking of her. I kinda miss her.

I take out my quill once I'm sure Professor isn't looking my way. For such a beautiful woman, she has a scary stare.

Alright, she's back to the chalkboard again. I'm free to write without being landed in hot water.

_I'd be happy to, Miss Hilda. I'll meet you by the dorms at sundown - as soon I've grabbed a bun from the kitchens. I was so busy training this morning; I skipped breakfast. See you later, and it's nice to hear you haven't forgotten me. Rolan._

Now all I have to do is get through today's classes, and I'll have something to keep me busy tonight. I'm fairly sure Hilda's simple request will end up with more and more 'teeny-tiny' jobs piled on top. Not that I mind too greatly.

I pass the note along to Hilda. She gives it a read and flashes me a wink of thanks. We're all set.

* * *

Sundown. Classes are done. I breathe a sigh of relief. Professor Byleth's lessons are insightful but tiring.

Hilda is waiting out in the corridor of the noble dorms by the time I get there, "Rolan. You came! How sweet." She rushes over and snags my hands, leading me into her room with a surprising amount of enthusiasm. "Now I know I said it was a teeny-tiny favour... buuut - my room's a bit messy right now. It might take a while to find those tomes. I know they were on my desk last I checked..."

I knew it. I was right. The tomes Hilda mentioned are nowhere in sight. Her writing desk is stacked high with parchment paper. The sock draw has been pulled out of her dresser and stockings are strewn all over the rug. Then there's her bed - goodness her bed. The linens are bundled messily by the footboard; the pillows are on the floor; and a collection of stuffed animals are scattered over the mattress.

I'm bribed with Hilda's sugary-sweetest smile.

"Would you pretty please tidy up in here? You'll be the biggest darling in the world if you do. I'll totally put in a good word for you with my folks back home. I'm sure my brother will give your father lots of business baking bread for the troops if he hears you've done me such a big favour. Pretty please?"

It's for the best. I'm sure Pop could do with the trade. And house Goneril always pay well; very well.

"Consider it done," I answer with a nod, bracing for the task ahead. "I'll clean up in here for you - but I can't stay too long. I've not had much in the way of food today." I take off my jacket and set it toss it over my shoulder.

"Ohhh don't you worry," Hilda assures me with a pat on the back, "I'm sure it won't take too long. I'll even pull up a chair; keep you company. It's the very least I could do. It's not often someone lends me a hand on such short notice."

"Most appreciated, Miss Hilda. Now then... Where to begin?"

The task as a whole takes far longer than I ever dreamed. The deeper I delve into the room, the messier it gets. Once I've fixed the writing desk and tidied up the bed, I get to work pairing and putting away Hilda's socks. Dusting and sweeping follow soon after. All the while Hilda paints her nails; humming cheerfully as I labour. The moon is high in the sky by the time I'm done. Orange candlelight provides the light I need to finally recover the lost tomes; they're buried beneath the deepest depths of the bed. I finish up by putting them in a neat pile at the foot of the bed.

Exhausted, I drop to the floor, resting my aching back against Hilda's desk, "Done," I exhale deeply; my heart thumps loudly in my ears. "All clean. Sorry it took me so long. There was," I wheeze, "More than I expected."

Sword training isn't as tiring as this. Heck, entering a swordsmanship contest would tire me less.

"Thanks for helping me out," says Hilda. Finished painting her nails, she plops down upon the floor, sitting beside me. She gives me a pat on the head, ruffling my already messy black hair. "You saw this through until the end; you're a real trooper, Rolan."

It's best I smile and be polite. "Anytime Hilda. Anytime."

"Say," the Goneril daughter gives me a curious glance. "How are you settling in here?" Her lips rise into a thoughtful smile. "I'll admit I was surprised when Professor announced we had a new student joining us Gold Deers; and I was even more surprised when I saw it was you. I always imagined you'd join the family business and bake alongside your father."

Hilda's innocent words make my heart sink. "That's not really the life I want, Hilda. I'd rather be a swordsman, as dangerous as it sounds. I'd rather serve the nobility, become a bodyguard. So I suppose you could say I'm settling in just fine."

"But you always look so lonely, Rolan. You've barely spoken to anyone in the house since you turned up last semester. Ignatz wanted to greet you, but he decided to leave you be. Whenever people approach you after class, you always leave."

Hilda has a very good point. Yes, I'm lonely. But I hadn't realized I was the cause. As much as she's concerned, I have an important reason for being the way I am - even if it brings me down. "It's because I have to focus. My parents saved everything they could to bring me here. I have one try, Hilda. One shot at changing my fate. I don't want to be some baker's son..."

"Oh really?" Hilda continues with intrigue. It's almost as though she's surprised by my way of thinking. "You're willing to put in all that work for something so risky. Sounds like too much of a hassle to me. Being a baker's easy. It's safe too. Why put yourself in harm's way?"

My answer is easy - I've no doubts.

"Because I won't be happy until I make a change for the better. I'll happily take on danger and stress; especially if it means I'm proud of myself when all's said and done. I'm not too bothered by other's expectations, but I know what I want for me."

"Wow..." Hilda's eyes turn wide as saucers. "You're actually pretty strong-willed behind the mask you wear. I had no idea... So, tell me something," she continues, taking my hands into hers. "It's your dream to serve a noble, right?"

"Yes it is."

"And you'd do anything to fulfil your wish?"

"Most things. I wouldn't question my superior, so long as I'm not forced to do anything cruel."

Hilda gasps, "So you don't care for what others expect of you? You're not bothered what they think?"

Again, my answer is very simple. "Not really. I've always stayed true to the things I want. I've known my dream ever since the day I first picked up an old training sword in the garden of my family home. I feel I could do good in battle - more than I could kneading dough..."

"Amazing... You sound so serious... Then how about this?" Hilda wraps her arms around my shoulders; she squeezes me tightly in a cuddle. Her perfume makes my head spin wildly. "You become my part-time helper after class. Pass all of your swordsmanship exams with flying colors too. If you do, I'll send a letter to my father singing you lots of praises; I'll ask to take you on as my personal guard at the Goneril Estate."

"Y-You'd do that for me?" My heart skips a beat - two - three. I have no idea if Hilda means what she says, but the prospect alone is amazing enough. I can hardly believe my luck. "You're serious?"

"You bet I am, Rolan." After giving me a big squeeze, Hilda eases away. She rises from the floor, sitting eagerly at her desk. She reaches for a quill and ink, bringing out a fresh piece of paper. "In fact, I'll write the letter now. So long as you help me out, and keep training, I'll send it off as soon as the school year ends. You can live at my house; protect me when Brother makes me march the troops; you name it."

Hilda is already writing the letter before I have so much as a second to make up my mind.

Who am I kidding? There's no way I can turn down such a huge chance.

Until today, I'd always been sceptical of the goddess and Saint Seiros. Now, I find it hard to remain closed-minded with such good fortune falling at my feet. First I met Dorothea; now Hilda is offering the biggest gift of all - an opportunity to serve the nobility.

"So, Rolan," Hilda blows dry the ink on the page, sliding the letter across for me to read. It's real. It's here. My doorway; my way to become somebody of worth. "Do you accept?" She asks softly, holding out her hand to me. "If so, you need only honor House Goneril tradition. Give me your promise with a kiss on the hand - In fact... let's not be so formal." Hilda leans nearer. "I suppose you can kiss my cheek... but it's our secret."

I kiss Hilda gladly, being as gentle as I can. She blushes as my lips brush against her soft, lotioned skin.

"It's an honor to serve you, Miss Goneril."

"No problem at all. I'm happy to have you." Hilda chuckles. Folding the letter, she slides it into an envelope. "It'll be worth it. I promise!"

Come tomorrow, my role as an aid to nobility begins.

I also hope to see Dorothea again soon, too.

** To be continued... **


	3. Dorothea

It's been tiring running so many errands for Hilda these past few weeks. I've hardly had time to myself between making deliveries in town. and cramming practice for my Myrmidon certification exam. Professor Byleth says I have some of the strongest potential of students in the Golden Deer House when it comes to sword skills. So, I've doubled down on my practice - between keeping my promise to Hilda. The only problem I have is quite the human one - there's hardly enough time in the day for a wink of sleep.

Ah well. It doesn't matter. Right now I should be heading back to Hilda's dorm; she needs to know I've delivered her laundry before sundown. I've gotta give her the foot massage she asked for, too. Wouldn't want to keep her waiting; my place as an aid to House Goneril rests on her shoulders. I'll treat her well and do as I'm asked - even if it proves tiring at times.

Alright. I'm back at the main marketplace. Now, to grab a quick snack from one of the vendors before heading back to the dorm.

Wait... hold on a second. I take pause. Dorothea is beside one of the stalls. She having a discussion with Sylvain from the Blue Lion House; a heated one too. She's pointing no end of accusing fingers. I better wander on by and listen. Not to be nosy, of course. But I must confess to thinking about Dorothea between my chores for Hilda. It's been too long since we first crossed paths. I hope she's alright.

Being tactful, I take up a spot at the armory stall beside Dorothea and Sylvain. I'm leaned in just the right position to listen to what the two of them are saying. And given Dorothea's passive-aggressive tone, it doesn't sound pretty.

She gives Sylvain a pat on the shoulder, "I'm sorry... But I kindly refuse. After all, what good is a girl like me for someone as dashing and charming as you?" Dorothea narrows her eyes; smirking, "I have a great idea... How about you tell all of the other girls you've invite to lunch about me? Even better - be honest with them. I'm sure they'd be thrilled to know you asked me to the ball."

Sylvain's cool and playful facade shatters like glass. "M-Maybe I should be going... Would you look at the time? Y-You take care, Dorothea. And let's keep this chat between ourselves, hmm? No need to tell the ladies in town about it. N-Not that I'm taking any of them on dates or anything..."

"Of course you're not," Dorothea scoffs, grinning like a cat with a big bowl of cream, "How could I think so little of you? You wouldn't do something so roguish and cruel, would you?" She waves off Sylvain cheerfully. "Bye for now. You enjoy your evening."

I've never seen Sylvain retreat from the company of a lady with such a spring to his step. He's up the steps, past the gate guard, and through the entrance hall in a matter of moments. Heck, he's almost tripping over his feet to get away. Once he's out of sight, Dorothea grins victoriously; she looks my way, hands on hips.

"You heard some of that, didn't you Rolan?" she winks playfully. "Not that I mind or anything. Now I suppose you know what I deal with most days." Dorothea joins me by the armory stall, taking my hand into hers. She's forcing her sunny cheer; it's obvious. "Anyhow... Enough about my silly problems. Men like Sylvain never learn. Where have you been?"

A strange question for certain. One Dorothea IS asking as though she's been looking for me. I'm taken aback by how sad she sounds all of the sudden. She holds my hand just a little bit tighter, caressing my fingers gently. "I stopped by the Golden Deer homeroom yesterday, hoping to find you. Claude said he hadn't seen you since sunrise. I came by this morning, too. But the girl with pigtails... Lord Goneril's daughter; Hilda - she told me you were busy in town."

W-Wait? Dorothea went out of her way to find me? Now there's a surprise I wasn't expecting. I bow my head in apology. Here's hoping she didn't spend too much time searching me out. "There's a good reason you couldn't find me," I begin, ready to explain. Not that I need to justify myself, but it's rude to make a lady wait - that's what Pop always taught me. "I was in town at sunrise; visiting a laundry lady."

Dorothea looks a tad confused, "O-Oh," she pauses, "You don't wash your own clothes? Isn't it expensive to hire someone?"

"Oh no, it's not for me," I correct her. "It's for Miss Hilda; they're her clothes - mainly socks. I was busy delivering them for her; i had to pick up a new pair of shoes she ordered as well." And buy her perfume, and collect some trinkets, but no one else needs to know about the full list of today's tasks. "It's no bother really."

"Wait..." The beautiful brunette stalls; she looks a bit shaken by what I've told her. "You're running errands... _for a girl?_ A noble girl at that? Dorothea's cheeks heat, glowing a soft shade of pink. "Can she not do it herself? Are the two of you a couple or something? You must know the Knights of Seiros frown upon that sort of thing, unless you swear a Vow of Companionship."

My heart punches in my chest at the very suggestion. My eyes shoot wide. "Me and Hilda, together? Goddess no." I'm quick to answer, shaking off Dorothea's suggestion before she goes way too far. "A Vow of Companionship, me? A promise like that's second only to marriage. I'm Hilda's assistant, training to become her bodyguard. Nothing more."

Dorothea sighs deeply. She's gifts me a bright smile. "How silly of me; and here I thought- Yes, very silly of me." She's flustered; if her cheeks were any redder she'd glow. Truly, she's the most gorgeous blushing violet I've ever had the pleasure of gazing upon.

"Are you okay?" I ask Dorothea kindly. "You're looking a little hot and bothered there."

"O-Of course, I'm fine," she answers quickly. "Say... How about we share a bite of dinner together tonight? Just you and me; at nightfall. Before the kitchens close. I'd love to get to know you a little better, Rolan. And it'd be a shame to miss out on spending time with a real gentleman for once..."

"I'd love to, but it'll have to be around nine, just before curfew."

Now, don't get me wrong, I'd love to go sooner, but I'm to tutor Hilda after class. Her Brigand certification exam is coming up; she has terrible marks so far - even with Professor Byleth giving her extra sessions in class. Granted, my grades aren't much better when it comes to axe proficiency, but they're at least passible. Now that I think about it, not many of Hilda's grades are even close to pass marks.

"Nine it is," Dorothea agrees. She sweeps me into a friendly hug, holding me tightly against her chest. I treasure our moment while I can. Her rosewood perfume is something of a comfort. Honestly, I could hold her like this all day if I didn't have somewhere to be. There aren't many girls like her; so welcoming and kind of heart. "I'll see you tonight, Rolan."

The two of us part ways for now. Dorothea enters the monastery and fades from sight; I'm left grinning like an idiot.

Dinner with such a lovely lady; I've fallen on my feet.

I should get on my way to the Golden Deer homeroom. That's where I promised I'd meet Hilda. First? I'll swing by my room to collect those old books on axe strategy. Goodness knows I'm going to need them. The next few hours are going to be very colorful indeed.

* * *

Studying with Hilda took longer than I thought.

"Well... That was utterly draining."

Being the last to leave, I lock up the homeroom door tightly, sliding the key into the pocket of my jacket. I'll pass it along to Professor Byleth in the morning before classes begin.

Never before have I seen a girl give up so frequently as Miss Hilda. She buries her head in her hands and whines whenever something becomes too complicated. A question she can't answer? She'll pass it off. A theory of Professor's she doesn't understand? She comes back to it later. Worse, she jumps at every chance to make me fill out parts of her practice paper; not that she doesn't reward me with ample hugs for the chore. But that's beside the point. How is Hilda ever going to succeed if she doesn't try harder?

The more I see her, the more I spend time with her; the more determined I feel to push her.

She's not a waste of space. She's not useless either.

Sighing exhaustedly, I gaze to the pale evening moon for answers.

"She's kind at heart, if a little lazy. And she's sweet, too."

Maybe that's why her attitude makes me a little mad.

"I'm breaking my back to stay at this academy, and she's coasting along like her studies aren't important..."

My exhaustion twists to frustration. I steady my breaths to calm down. It isn't polite to speak ill of a lady.

I have more important matters to focus on, too. It's almost nine according to the courtyard moondial. I'd better meet with Dorothea. It wouldn't be fair to make her wait. The last thing I want is to upset her.

"Just relax, Rolan," I tell myself with a yawn, unbuttoning my coat. "Go enjoy dinner. Forget your troubles."

* * *

The dining hall is a relaxing place; this late in the evening it's especially calm and peaceful. A handful of monks are putting up chairs and clearing away the mess from tables. Only a few candles are lit; making for a lovely, almost romantic atmosphere. A late night hymn in honor of the goddess echoes from the cathedral; it makes for a soothing mood.

Dorothea looks especially lovely. She's taken off her cap; her smooth chocolate-brown hair flows freely down her back.

I should feel on top of the world with such pleasing sights and sounds all around me. But I can't distract myself from Hilda's idleness - among other equally pressing things; sleep being one of them.

"Rolan..." Dorothea sets aside her plate; she gives me a worried glance. Reaching out, she places her hands atop of mine. "You barely touched your food. I was worried your omelette would jump off the plate if you kept jabbing it with your fork. What's the matter? Am I not good company? Is my talk of the opera boring you?"

"It's nothing of the sort," I reply groggily. If anything, learning of Dorothea's past as a diva for an opera company makes for refreshing discussion. I hope she'll tell me more about it in future. "My mind's wandering; that's all. It's my fault."

"More errands?" Asks Dorothea with a hint of coldness, "Are you running around after Hilda again? You were worn out when we met earlier; now you look like you're falling asleep. You're pale against the candlelight..."

I hoped Dorothea wouldn't notice how tired I am.

"I'm fine," I insist, weakly waving away her worries. "Soon as I get some rest, I'll be right as rain."

"No," Dorothea frowns. She gets up from her spot across the table. Pulling out the chair beside mine, she sits down, folding one leg over the other. Her deep blue-green orbs glimmer against the soft orange hue of the candles. She furrows her brow; alive with concern. "Just what does this girl have you doing? I'd heard rumours she was spoiled, but... goodness me."

I'd feel swept up; overwhelmed by the kindness of the songstress, if only I could focus. My entire body feels kinda heavy. All of the sudden I'm weak - it's a chore just sitting in this chair; my eyes are sore. All the same, I'd better defend Hilda. She's not a bad girl, and she promised I'd be her guard. That alone is reason enough to stick by her. "Nothing much... I just deliver her clothes, pick them up; collect her shoes; tidy her dorm room - that sorta thing."

"I hope to the goddess you're joking..."

Dorothea's tone of disgust makes me shiver. She looks angry; extremely angry - her shoulders stiffen with frustration.

"It's not as bad as it sounds," I counter with a thin smile. "Hilda treats me well enough for helping her out. She bought me a new blazer jacket the other day, and she paid for my lunch at the weekend. Don't worry about me... I'll be fine."

My assurances do little to quench Dorothea's flames, "No, stop being dismissive - this isn't right," she huffs; her face is beet red. "You shouldn't run around after her like a servant. She's a grown woman; and highborn to boot. She'll have you massaging her feet next."

Hilda's only asked me to massage her feet once; not that I'll tell Dorothea. She'd probably have a meltdown. I really do appreciate her concern, but this is the fastest way to reach my dreams; my sure-fire road to casting aside the shackles of being a baker's son. "I can cope with this; I mean it. It's best you focus on yourself, Dorothea. I'll bet a lady as talented as you has far bigger dreams than me."

"You don't get it, do you?" Dorothea's voice cracks. She sounds tiny and hurt; her eyes quiver with emotion. Her hands tremble as she rests them within her lap. "Listen to me, please... Rolan, if only you knew why-" She sighs deeply, "Okay... I'll put it this way."

The songstress collects herself with a raspy breath. "There are so many men in this monastery without a respectful bone in their bodies; the kinda guys who treat innocent maidens lower than dirt. It's taken me a long time to find somebody nice; somebody kind... A man I want to call my friend. And he's being kicked around like a lapdog; by a noblewoman no less."

She squeezes her skirt between trembling hands. "I made the right choice being kind the day we met by the lake. I didn't flirt with you or act the tease... I'm glad I didn't; because you're naive as anything." Dorothea leans in and pecks my lips. We're joined for but a single breath-taking moment. My heartbeat thunders like a drum; my lips tingle. I don't want it to end.

The brunette retreats from my personal space in the blink of an eye; already on her feet by the time I've regained my senses.

"Why allow her order you around?" Pushing in her chair, Dorothea turns her back to me; her shoulders sag under the weight of her sadness. "Do you feel something for her deep down? Is it because she's your upperclassman? You're letting her play you for a fool."

I've not had time to tell Dorothea much about myself in the short time I've known her. Nevertheless, there's no denying how concerned she is for my wellbeing. I owe her honesty on this matter, at the very least.

"Hilda is-" I stall; it's best I choose my words carefully. "She's my chance at following my dreams. Before I came here, I was destined to become a baker." Even now, admitting it makes me feel fed up. "I was nothing; nobody. Now I can choose my own path. Miss Goneril gave her word; if I serve her while training for my swordsmanship exams, she'll take me on as her bodyguard."

I half expected Dorothea would walk away upon hearing my reasons. Far from it. My confession stuns her to silence.

She faces me anew; her eyes misted with tears. "We're more alike than you realize," she says sadly, "It frightens me, and yet it's comforting. I'm not the only one who's scared of where she might end up." Dorothea dries her eyes against the sleeve of her jacket; she smiles painfully; a hand against her heart. "Good to know... I'm very happy to have met you, Rolan."

The songstress gives a heartfelt bow, as though she's closing a performance on stage. "You get to bed soon. Sleep well; I'll see you again before long. It's a promise - count on it." She blows me a kiss. "Goodnight."

I'm left alone in the dining hall; the head chef gives me a pitying glance from behind the dinner counter.

There's no reason to stay here any longer. I should get some sleep.

The walk back to my dorm room is a long one. A cool evening breeze nips at my skin. It's so cold; my breaths fog in front of me. I take out my keyring and unlock the bedroom door. The hinges squeak as I nudge the door wide.

A small pile of unopened letters from home sit atop my plain wooden desk. I'll check them later.

It's been very; _very_ long day.

** To be continued... **


	4. Belief

The letters atop the desk in my bedroom can wait another day. There are far more important things to do.

Strike. Parry. Reverse. Remember the techniques Professor Byleth showed us in class. Deep breaths, Rolan. Stay calm. You can do this. There are only a couple of weeks left until my Myrmidon Certification Exam. If I pass you're no longer an average commoner. I'll be somebody with rank and importance; a man recognized by the monastery for his talents. All I need to do is focus on the goal ahead I must do this - no matter what it takes. I've come too far to back out now.

The morning bell signals an end to my training session. I'd better get ready for classes.

Hilda watches me from the side-lines with interest. The last thing I expected was for her to join me this morning. Heck, I was beyond surprised to see her awake and ready to go at dawn. Usually I'm the one to wake her for classes with a quick knock at the bedroom door. Not this morning; she was already waiting for me - with a cheery grin no less.

Sliding my sword away, I exhale sharply to steady my frantic heartbeat. I'd say my work at the training grounds is good enough for today.

"I've gotta say," begins Hilda; she stands at my side. "You take your training so seriously. I feel a little tired just watching you swing that sword around." She smiles, ruffling my hair as she so often does these days. "Not that I mind or anything... It's part of the reason I like keeping you company. You're determined."

I'm not quite sure how to respond to such a colorful compliment. Is she being serious or sarcastic?

"What do you mean, Hilda?" I'll press the point a little bit further. Goddess knows I'm curious. "It was quite the shock when you stopped by my room this morning. You're usually still lounging in bed this early."

"What I'm saying is," The pigtailed lass continues with a wink. "Something about the way you act makes me happy; hopeful, even. I look at you and it's like... Well, maybe I could take things a bit more seriously - just a little..."

Hilda and the word serious are two things I never expected to go hand-in-hand. Whenever I used to visit her family estate with my parents she'd always act so laid-back. Father once joked with me; he said if "Miss Goneril were any more relaxed she'd fall asleep." I remember his jape all too well.

It would be good if Hilda started living her life with a hint of urgency. "How did I help you figure all this out?" I ask, brandishing the proudest smirk I can muster. "I thought it was too much hassle putting in effort."

"Maybe I'll tell you later," she answers. Snagging my hand, red-faced as she goes, Hilda pulls me in the direction of the door. She's surprisingly strong; must have something to do with her lugging around an axe in training. "Let's get out of here, Rolan. Professor might get mad if I'm late for another class..."

Together, we depart for our morning lessons. It's Tuesday, which means we have Tactical Theory first. No roll of the eyes is big enough. I'm absolutely terrible when it comes to Tactical Theory. Why can't we have Single Combat on a Tuesday instead?

* * *

I've been listening to Professor as best I can, but this class is far from my favorite. I've spent most of the morning passing notes with Hilda; our exchange started with her asking if I'd shuffle down the bench. I've tried ignoring her and concentrating on the lecture, but she keeps on passing more and more scraps of paper my way. She's taken to making subtle gestures; patting the empty space beside her. Well, the whole bench is empty aside from the two of us - but that's beside the point.

I bite back a grumble. If I don't sit with Hilda she's going to keep poking at me until class ends. Being extra careful not to draw attention my way, I gather up my papers and quill, shuffling across the bench to meet her. She smirks victoriously, having won my attention.

"Hey, Rolan," she whispers, prodding me in the arm, "Shall we head into town after this? I need to go shopping..."

"More like you need someone to carry your bags, you mean."

Hilda feigns a gloomy frown, "I'm hurt; to think you'd see me in such a mean light."

"I'm only teasing," I counter with a tiny chuckle. "Don't worry... We'll go as soon as classes finish."

"Thanks... I don't need to visit too many places. We'll be back in a heartbeat."

Given Miss Goneril's track record with buying clothes and trinkets, I can only dare imagine how long it will take.

I turn my attention back to the chalkboard; I don't stay focused for long.

Hilda rests her hand atop of mine. Locking our fingers together, she artfully hides our embrace under the table, out of sight from nosy classmates. She strokes my fingers softly; her face reddens.

Now that I think about it... she's very pretty. My heart's aflutter; if she keeps on gazing into me so deeply, I think I'll faint. Her full, pillowy lips entice me. I dunno what's coming over me. T-This is Hilda I'm thinking about; Hilda. I clean her room and fold her socks. She can't desire the attention of a commoner like me. She's highborn; a lady of status. Girls of her standing enjoy the finer things life has to offer. Her father; Lord Goneril, is wealthy and powerful. She must have suitors fawning over her.

I should retreat; I'll be wise to save myself the trouble her affections will bring. Nobles always look upon relationships with the common folk disdainfully.

And yet, I'm intoxicated by the sweet, flowery scent of her perfume.

No, this is foolish. I must back off. Though it makes me sad, I pull my hand away.

Hilda steals it right back, giving my digits a sharp squeeze. Her eyes of pink narrow playfully, knowingly. She's not letting go. "You'll be my bodyguard someday soon," the pigtailed lass utters sweetly. "We should get used to being like this."

The bells of Garreg Mach chime; the end of class is here. Hilda steals her hand away as the other students rise from their seats.

Before everyone leaves, Professor Byleth commands our attention with a loud clap of the hands. "Remember everyone, next Sunday we're heading back to Zanado. Another group of bandits have taken up arms there; they've been robbing traders. It falls to us to deal with them."

I'll keep Professor's words close to heart for when next week comes.

* * *

I've never had to carry so many items of clothing in my whole life. My arms are stacked full with folded garments and more. Socks; leggings, shoes, trinkets - Hilda bought everything she could get her hands on. Her coin purse must've left her pocket at least twenty times. She's spent more money in one day than I have in my whole first semester.

"This way," Hilda hurries on ahead. I do my best to waddle along with all of the items I'm carrying. She skids to a stop by the water fountain in the town square; a beautiful depiction of Lady Seiros - pristine and perfect with a serene, angelic expression.

"Let's take a break," says Hilda. She sits against the ring-like wall surrounding the fountain, stretching her legs with a heavy sigh. "We've done so much walking... Sorry Rolan. I didn't expect it would take so long. I bought stuff from half the folks in town..."

"Just let me catch my breath and I'll be okay." I expected this from the very start. Exhaling my tension, I neatly set down Hilda's clothes on the cobblestones, sitting beside her. If anybody needs a break before they fall over, it's me. A few large breaths help steady my heavily thumping heart. I'm tired; so tired my head aches. "Though I imagine you've made the traders very happy today."

Hilda wears a guilty expression, "I'm really sorry," she continues. "Look at you; you're exhausted. I didn't mean to overwork you."

"It's fine," I answer insistently. "My morning training's harder than this. You've seen it yourself."

The last thing I want is for Hilda to feel upset. I offered to help her; this is my responsibility.

She doesn't say a word more on the matter, either. She simply shuffles closer, resting her hand atop of mine. Together, we admire the township of Garreg Mach. The sky is dyed orange by the setting sun. Small children play games of tag in the bustling streets. Stall owners busy themselves with packing away their wares for the day. The air is so clean and fresh; the smell of freshly baked bread wafts from the chimney of the town's quaint bakery. So many people; each with a different story - each one of them protected by the Knights of Seiros. It's all so very different to the quiet (rural) townships of Goneril lands.

"Thanks for coming with me today," says Hilda kindly, caressing my fingers. She lays her head upon my shoulder, sighing contentedly. My heart jumps. "You must think I'm nasty, asking you to help me so much..."

Running after a noblewoman wears me out, yes. But there are far worse things I could do with my time. Gods, I could be home in Goneril helping with the household chores again, stoking fires and lugging bags of flour from the mill.

Hilda's lips fall into a frown, "I meant it when I said sorry. A few of the other students accuse me of using people. But I don't want you feeling that way, Rolan. With you it's... _different_." She slides our fingers together; two become one. "Being honest... I always kinda missed you. It was nice, having you visit when we were little."

"But all I did was tidy up after you, Hilda."

"That's not the point. You didn't act all strange around me because I'm noble. You didn't help because you had to; you did nice things because you wanted to - because we were friends. How old were we both when we met? About seven?"

Thinking back, we were very young indeed. "Yeah, around that age if I remember rightly."

Hilda links her arm with mine. I close my eyes and enjoy the moment, "Never thought I'd see you again," she confesses, "The little boy from the bakers shop. When you turned up in our homeroom that morning, I couldn't stop smiling. I guess what I'm saying is... I'm grateful."

Her confession feels bittersweet. As I've grown older I've seen the truth. There are barriers between nobles and commoners - boundaries, the likes of which are often too strong to shatter. Lorenz from our class is proof enough of that. The nobility live very different lives.

I'm slightly afraid, now that I see things for what they are. I viewed Hilda as a mere acquaintance when we were young - whereas she saw me as something more. The lines are becoming blurred. I don't know what to think anymore.

Maybe Dorothea is right. Hilda might be using me. But, if such is the case... I don't want to walk away. This lovely pink-haired lass has so much potential; she'd be a shining star in the night sky if only she used it. "I'm happy we're friends again too - which is why you should try harder, Hilda."

"But what if I let everyone down?"

I open my eyes to the sunset, "I believe in you." There's not a doubt in my mind. "Why do you think I agreed to serve you?"

Hilda gasps, "You believe in me... Are you serious? _Say it again_... Means a lot coming from you."

"Miss Hilda Valentine Goneril, I believe in you. I think you could make plenty of people proud. All you need to do is believe in yourself."

"O-Okay, I'll try," she answers nervously, "B-But only a little bit."

Hilda turns and faces me. She's close; her tiny breaths tickle against my cheek. Again I'm lost in the depth and serenity of her eyes. I can hardly breathe; I'm robbed of my senses. She leans nearer and nearer; I bring my arm around her waist... I'm hypnotized; drawn further in by her soft ivory skin and the fullness of her lips.

A twinge of urgency stops me from closing the gap at the last second, "L-Let's not. If we're caught like this we might get into-"

I'm silenced by Hilda's finger against my lips. "Nope... Not gonna happen."

She withdraws her finger, pressing her lips to mine with a heartfelt whimper. We share a kiss. A second. Even a third. She tastes sugary sweet. I'm losing myself; my heart beats together with hers. I don't care if I'm being used. Hilda is far too precious.

As the final rays of sunlight fade, we part. Hilda flashes me a tender smile. "We should head back to the monastery soon..."

"Agreed."

Against my better judgement, a second lovely women captivates me. I feel guilty, but it's as Mother often said when I was small.

_You cannot help for whom your heart yearns._

**To be continued...**


	5. Misfortune

Daybreak - a time of peace and tranquillity for most. I never have a hard time rising in the youthful hours of morning. I sleep fairly well, all things considered, but it's proven harder the last month or so. Climbing out of bed, I give my aching body a stretch and shuffle to the mirror stiffly. Oh yes - the person staring me back (in the reflective glass) is in definite need of extra rest. My long black hair is a mess; there are dark rings forming under my eyes. And Dorothea was right - I look pale. Doubtless because I've been doing so much for Hilda recently.

Ah well. It can't be helped. More pressing matters require my attention. I've been ignoring the steadily increasing pile of letters on my writing desk for long enough. There's even of them now; each one is addressed from home. They began arriving slowly at first, but the last four were passed to me by the monastery postmistress with increasing haste. The poor girl looked tired of stopping by my dorm to deliver them.

After dressing, I brush a hand through my hair and grab the handful of letters. The first three of the bunch start off plainly enough; they're simple greetings from Father. He wants to know what I'm up to, and how things have been going since I arrived at Garreg Mach - simple stuff really. The latest letter of the bunch paints a darker picture. My heart sinks as I skim through; for two very important reasons.

_Ye haven't written home in a while, so I hope these letters find you well, Son. I hate being the barer of bad news, but what I've gotta share's real important. Your Ma fell sick at the start of the month; Crimson Fever. Now, she's alright, so ye need not go stressin, but it cost a lotta coin to bring healers from Lord Goneril's estate. I hate to say it, but we ain't got the money to keep ye at Garreg Mach much longer. Maybe till the end of yer current semester. Sorry, Son. I know you'll understand, given time. Write back once you make plans to return home, and keep doin' us proud all the same. Best wishes - Pop._

Mother was sick and I didn't even bother to break the seals on these letters; let alone write home. So much has happened; I've been so self-absorbed. All I cared about was training and reaching my lofty goals. I breathe a deeply frustrated sigh. None of it will matter soon enough. It's like Pop said, the money's gone. My time here's running short. There's a month to the end of this semester. Four, maybe five weeks at the most.

"What should I do?"

I stare into the mirror for answers. The exhausted young man staring back mocks me with glum silence.

The Certification Exams are coming up next week; not to mention we're taking a class mission to Zanado to slay a band of troublesome marauders. Maybe I should focus my attention there? I dunno. Strange how a single instant can leave you feeling lost all over again.

On the bright side, Mother's alright - I should thank the goddess for her mercy. But... what happens to my dream when I return to Goneril? Will all I've strived for over the past few months be snuffed out like a candle on the wind?

No. I can't let it end like this. I won't.

"You've gotta push ahead, Rolan."

Even if I have to leave soon, there's no way in the deepest pits of hell I'm gonna go down without fighting. A month is more than enough time to help Hilda pass her Axe Exams, and thank Dorothea for all her kindness. All I can do is move on. I'll double down; I'll work twice as hard. I'm not just some lowly commoner. I can do better - if not for myself then for those whom I care about.

I have a job to do; I won't rest until it's finished.

* * *

For three days straight I've dedicated most of my time to studying with Hilda. Between my exams and training, I scrape a few hours of sleep a day. That's enough to get me by. Sleep is for the weak. I'll sit here as long as it takes for Miss Goneril to pass her test paper with flying colors. Between Professor Byleth's lessons and my help, she's finally starting to get a grasp of things.

It's past midnight. I shouldn't be in Hilda's room at this hour, but she insisted. Apparently she studies better outside of the classroom.

"So," she yawns, jabbing a particularly troublesome question on her test. "In this section we're supposed to detail the stances involved in axe combat, right? I think I get it now... Technique first; then stances. Wow..." Hilda grins proudly, giving herself a pat on the back. "I get it. I actually understand!"

I shush her, placing a finger against my lips. "I'm happy for you, truly I am... but try your best to keep quiet. We'll be in serious trouble if we're caught together this late at night; studying or not."

Hilda smirks playfully; she pushes aside her test, linking her arm with mine, "If a monk comes knocking I'll stash you somewhere. You can hide with my stuffed bears. Don't worry... we'll be fine."

As if tempting fate, a thunderous knock at the door freezes me to the core.

"Excuse me, Miss Goneril? It's past lights out. Do you have company in there? Forgive me, but I must enter. You know Lady Rhea's rules."

Oh seven hells! A knight of Seiros! Why now of all times?! If I'm seen here, my short time left in Garreg Mach will become even shorter! I move in a hurry, crawling under Hilda's dusty bed. It's hard to breathe down here! The dirt is so thick it makes my chest hurt. Does this room ever get swept unless I'm doing it for her?

"Coming!" replies Hilda, swinging the door open for the insistent sentry.

I curl into a protective ball, wracked by terror at the sound of platemail boots. The knight stops right beside the bed, humming with deep-rooted suspicion. "I could have sworn I heard something... It must've been my imagination."

"Yep," answers Hilda nervously, "N-Nothing in here. See?" she leads the knight over to her desk in a hurry. "I was cramming some late night study time before my test next week. I'll try to keep it down in future."

"See that you do," answers the knight sternly, "Goodnight, Miss Goneril."

"Night!"

I exhale deeply as Hilda brings the door closed, sliding the deadbolt into place. She motions for me to return from my grubby hideaway. Stifling a cough, I emerge from beneath the darkest depths. Climbing to my feet, I brush the layers of dust from by trousers and blazer jacket. I won't breathe right for a while - but it's worth it to avoid being caught.

"That was close," whispers Hilda. "I thought we were goners for sure."

Thank our lucky stars we weren't seen. "Next time," I grumble, "We study in the classroom." I perch beside Hilda's desk. A bigger problem looms; one with gravity enough to set my heart athunder. The guards will be twice as vigilant now. "How am I going to return to my room? The commoner dorms are halfway across the monastery..."

My revelation gets Hilda blushing; her lips curve into a sheepish smile. "Y-You could sleep in here. It's not like you have a choice..."

A lump forms in my throat at such a suggestion. My heartbeat becomes a war drum. It's hot all of the sudden; I feel a sweat coming on. Flustered, I pop the buttons of my undershirt, fanning my face with desperation. "M-Maybe I could sneak out."

"You'll be seen right away," counters Hilda. I swear, there's a hint of thrill; of excitement to her voice. "Do you have any idea the trouble I'll get into if Lady Rhea writes home to my brother? If he hears I've had men in my bedroom... I'll be scolded so hard."

"Duke Holst," I fall queasy at the very thought of Hilda's elder sibling, "The strongest general in the Alliance."

"You'll have to stay here, Rolan... _with me_. I'll go on ahead when classes start in the morning. You'll have to follow later; sneak past the guards. It's the only way. We can't be seen leaving together."

"It's not so simple." I can't stay here - for one very important reason in particular. I point nervously across the room, "There's only one bed."

"I know." Hilda holds her gaze to the floor, anxiously tapping her shoes together, "But we can share... There's room for two."

No way can I do something like that. If my dear mother were here, she'd be beside herself. I wasn't raised that way! The most I've done is kiss a girl. "I'll sleep on the floor," is my nervy reply. "N-Need I remind you we're in a monastery?"

"N-No, it's fine by me. I-I don't mind," replies Hilda hurriedly, her hands clasped together, held tightly against her lap. "It gets bitterly cold in the early hours of morning. We should share - cuddle close; I'll keep my smallclothes on."

My skin is sizzling. I feel a little dizzy all of the sudden. I take off my jacket, clutching it between shaky fingers. Hilda edges closer, taking it from me; she tosses it against the footboard of the bed. She's just as warm as me, it seems. Her face glistens, "I'm going to take off my skirt. Look away, would you?"

I do as I'm asked in a hurry. My imagination runs wild with the rustling of fabric. Hilda's breaths become hefty pants. I wish I could turn around. I'm awful; I know. But a part of me yearns to see all that my lovely classmate has to offer. It wouldn't be the first time I've peeked at those wide child-baring hips of hers as she saunters the halls.

"Done," she says quickly. "You can look now."

I turn around to find Hilda snuggled beneath the bed linens. Wait! Her shoulders - they're bare. She isn't wearing a bra. I thought she was going to keep her smallclothes on! And the way she stares at me; it's as though I'm being beckoned; lured. She pats the empty space in the bed, smiling shyly at me. "Come on over... but you might want to take off your shoes first."

Right! Shoes! I'd totally forgotten! I unite my laces and slip them off right quick, "And maybe your shirt too," Hilda continues, "It's... easier to share warmth that way. O-Only if you want to, of course."

"M-My shirt?"

"Yep. Your shirt."

I get to work with fumbling fingers, clumsily bringing my buttons free one by one. I don't know how or why, but it's as though Hilda has command over me; I want to abide by her every word. Bringing the item of clothing loose, I slide my arms free, casting it to the floor.

Hilda's eyes widen at the sight of my toned chest. "Those muscles. Oh wow..." Beads of sweat crawl down her forehead. Flushed, she desperately shivers for reprieve. "I'm impressed." She folds back the covers. With an arm draped around her beyond-ample chest (a thread-bare protection of her modesty) the pink-haired lass draws me closer with a giggle. "C'mere."

An offer I can't refuse. Her voice is like music to my ears.

We wrap up warmly together beneath the sheets; Hilda wriggles nearer with every passing moment. Our noses touch. Her minty breath tickles my cheek. I'm losing myself in the fullness and sincerity of her gaze. I-I want to reach out and hold her; I want to brush my fingertips against her perfect skin. I want her lips against mine.

"Rolan," Hilda utters near-silently; her face beet-red and sweaty. "I've gotta know," She reaches out, stroking my cheek tenderly, "Do you like me? B-Because..." Miss Goneril brings her arm away from her chest, exposing her bosom to the gift of sight. "Because I like you... I mean it; I really like you... _a lot_."

A guilty twinge squeezes my stomach. Why did you say that, and now of all times? I-I'll be leaving soon. I don't have the time to solve matters of affection. I can't give you or Dorothea the love you deserve. All I can do is show my gratitude for all of the warmth and concern the two of you have shown. After that, I have to go away - there's no choice.

The truth shakes me to the core. I can't deny my feelings, even if they cut my skin like the sharp of a blade.

"Of course I do, yes," I confess, resting my finger against Hilda's lips, "I care about you. You've a heart of gold when you take things seriously. Why do you think I stick by you? You're going to achieve great things Hilda... I just know it."

Hilda brings my finger away " _We_ ," she corrects me, "We're gonna do great things, together. With you here... I feel stronger. I wanna try my best. That's why," she leans in, pressing her lips to mine with vigor. I'm left enthralled by her taste; her scent, too. She rests her head against my chest when we part. "I'd like you to attend the ball at the end of the year with me. Let's go together, as a couple..."

The agony of a knife plunges into my chest. Her request is one I can't abide, and not through a lack of want.

But she's so hopeful. I-I don't know what to do. Either way, I'm going to shatter someone's fragile affections. Hilda's. Dorothea's. Mine. And so, I avoid the question. I kiss Hilda with heat; with passion. She whines into me, bringing her arms around my back. Sticky and clammy, the two of us drown in the moment. Nothing else matters.

I don't have the heart to tell her or Dorothea about the problem I face. The best I can do is stay beside them; both of them - until the day I return to Goneril. At least that way, the two of them will think of me with fond memories. I'm destined to become a baker's son. Hilda is a noble. Dorothea is an opera diva; a celebrity. I cannot follow the road they walk. The chains of my common birth; my fate, forbids it.

** To be continued... **


	6. Confession

I awaken to chirping birds. Strands of sunlight shine through the windowpanes, lulling me into a sense of safety and security. Hilda is already out of bed and dressing. I remain quiet and watch her fasten the buttons of her shirt. She doesn't look in the slightest hurry. I clear my throat to let her know I'm up. She flashes me a wink, swiftly fixating upon the mirror thereafter.

"Morning you," she chimes, grabbing one of many ornate hairbrushes from the dresser, "Class is starting soon, but I'm taking my time. Did you sleep well? You seemed cosy when I woke up; you were snoring."

"I'm good... But my lips are sore." I run my fingers over them. Yep, they're stinging alright. Well, I have nobody but myself to blame. I suppose that's what you get when you stay up kissing for hours on end. Not that I'm complaining; Hilda is quite the kisser. I wonder - does she have past experience?

Hilda giggles, fixing her pigtails in the mirror, "You're precious. There's salve on the dresser; I'll pass it over when I'm done."

For a while I sit back in bed and enjoy watching my classmate prepare for the day. There's far more to a woman's morning ritual than I imagined. Fixing one's hair alone seems long-winded; a mission of sorts. Makeup and perfume follow afterwards. I'm honestly surprised she feels so comfortable with me being here as an observer. She could've hurried along and been ready to leave long before I awoke.

"How long have you been up?"

"About thirty minutes," Hilda answers plainly. "Would've gotten out of bed quicker, but it was nice listening to your heartbeat while you snoozed. You're a peaceful sleeper; it's kinda comforting."

Hilda moves from her dresser and picks up her blazer. There's a huge purple bruise on the side of her neck. She can't go out with something so lewd on show. It'll stir gossip aplenty. "Errr... Hilda? You might wanna double-check in the mirror..." My cheeks flare just mentioning it, "Y-You're neck..."

She smiles cheekily at my words of warning, resting her fingers neatly upon the marking, "It's alright - I saw it earlier. No worries," her smile rises into a heartfelt grin. "I'll wear my scarf to class today. No regrets; I had fun last night."

I bow my head all the same, "Sorry 'bout that. I was a bit too rough."

Hilda winks, "Rough is fine... Now, where did I put my- Ah! There it is." She scoots around the bed to recover her scarf from its resting place beside the bookshelf. Draping the item artfully over the love bite, she gives a twirl for the mirror. "Looking nice. Okay!"

The noble lass swings by the dresser and grabs a small (brown) ceramic pot. She places it in my lap on the way toward the door, gifting me a peck on the cheek. "Okay. Salve for your lips," she says, giving me second peck on the forehead. "I'll head down to the dining hall. Best I stick to my usual routine. It'll raise fewer eyebrows. I'll see you in class."

Miss Goneril stalls before she leaves. Blushing and beautiful, she holds her fingers and thumbs into the shape of a love heart. "Thank you," she utters under her breath. "This is the first time I've slept beside someone; _it's nice._ "

She hurries on ahead, heaving the doors closed as she goes. I'm left with my thoughts - with stillness; with very chapped lips. Alone, a cold feeling of loneliness grips me. This is likewise my first time sleeping beside another. I like the warming sensation of snuggling up with someone; my worldly problems seem smaller. I wouldn't trade such a feeling for anything.

Sadly, these moments will come to an end soon.

No... I've gotta stop thinking about it! You have a goal, Rolan. You need to stick with it!

Once I'm done applying salve, I climb out of bed. My waking ritual will be far quicker than Hilda's. Slip on my shirt. Grab my jacket. Recover my shoes from their place down by the foot of the bed. I'll be out of here in no time. Probably for the best, too. I'll skip out on breakfast in place of sword practice. Can't afford to miss the morning training. There's plenty of time for food later.

Classes go by smoothly enough. Hilda and I sat at different benches today, to be on the safe side. Nobody paid much mind to her scarf; either. Well, there was Lysithea, now that I think about it. But she complimented how nice it looked and asked to stroke the fur. So, our plan went off without a hitch. Although, I think Professor Byleth was surprised to see us sitting separately.

* * *

Sunset brings with it more tasks.

As usual, I've been sent into town on errands with the end of the day drawing near. Hilda wants fresh bread from one of the market stalls we visited last time we came out here. Now, I don't mind or anything; I'm just mighty hungry. My stomach's been growling all day. Raphael looked my way more than once during our lectures. I swear, the big fella has a sense for those kinda things.

With the town square firmly in sight, I decide to stop and catch my breath. Okay, it was reckless to skip out on breakfast this morning. I'm feeling mighty sluggish right about now. My legs are heavy; and with each groan my stomach feels all the more hollow. Granted, I'd normally be able to solve the issue, being in town and all - but I carelessly left my coin purse in Hilda's room in my hurry to train.

I'll have to man up and make do. I won't spend the gold Hilda's given me on a little extra bread for myself - not without asking first.

"Right, get up, Rolan." I spur myself on, shaking my fatigue clear. The quicker I get this done, the quicker I get back to the monastery; the sooner I can invade the dining hall like an Almyran charging Fodlan's Locket.

Arriving by the bread stall, I place my order. The aroma of fresh baking is comforting on two fronts. One? My empty stomach is screaming for it. And two? It serves as a fond reminder of home. As soon as the food up is bagged up, I retreat in a hurry; my willpower won't hold if I stand around gawking at loaves until sundown. "Job done," I breathe a sigh of relief. "Okay... Now it's about time I head b-"

"Hey there! Rolan! Is that you?"

My heart jumps in my chest. I turn back - looking once - looking twice. "Dorothea."

My favorite songstress hurries over from a jewellery stall across the square. She holds a tiny paper bag between her fingers. She's the last person I expected to see today - but I'm far from displeased. "How are you doing, Rolan?" She slips the bag into her jacket pocket "Running more errands?"

I swear, there's a sour note to her voice.

"Kinda. Hilda asked me to pick these up."

"Of course she did." Dorothea smiles sadly, "But let's not talk about her. I'm far more interested in you. How've you been?"

My stomach groans, answering her question rather gracelessly. "I'm a bit on the peckish side."

Dorothea brings a hand to her mouth, lauging softly, "I can tell. When did you last eat?"

I'm almost afraid to fess up. A little white lie won't hurt. "This morning..."

"Nope, you didn't," I'm shot down. The brunette narrows her eyes; concerned. "No way. You're looking faint. Are you running yourself ragged again?" She rests her hands upon her hips like a concerned mother. "I'd say I have a grasp on who you are by now. I'm a good judge of character - women's intuition."

"Alright... You win." Bested, I avert my eyes, "I grabbed a quick sandwich yesterday afternoon."

"Yesterd- Goddess help me. No wonder you look ready to fall down in a heap."

"I've been busy," I reply with desperation, "Can't stop. There's always too much to do."

I raise my eyes, meeting with Dorothea. She's fraught with worry.

"Too much for food?"

Time isn't on my side. I have to focus. The more time I spend helping others, the better I'll feel when my semester in Garreg Mach comes to an end. It hurts keeping my struggles bottled up, but I have no other choice. "Too much for food."

The brunette rolls her eyes sharply. "That settles it then. C'mon... We're going to the teahouse." She flashes me a stern gaze, "I fancy a spot of cake all of the sudden." Dorothea leads the way, "It won't sit right with me if you starve."

When this young lady sets her mind on something she doesn't back down.

How painfully ironic.

I follow as quickly as I can manage. Stacks of bread work wonders at slowing you down.

* * *

A teahouse isn't where I expected to spend the end to my afternoon - but small mercies are nice enough. This establishment is quaint and friendly. Small tables adorned with frilly white tablecloths. A wonderfully polite serving girl with the shiniest blue eyes; an aroma of exotic blends I've never whiffed before. And then there's the sweet selection - goodness the sweets. They're my shortcoming; the drawback of growing up around a father who rolls dough and crafts pastry for a living.

Unfortunately, I'll have to go hungry while Dorothea joyfully cuts into her cream cake with a silver fork. "I can't get anything I'm afraid."

"You don't have any money? How did you buy the bread?"

There's no way I can reveal why I'm without coin of my own. Think Rolan. Think. She's good at seeing through you.

"It's an allowance Hilda gave me," I explain. "I left my coin purse in my bedroom this morning. My fault. I was in a rush to make class in time."

"You should take better care of yourself." Dorothea sets down her fork. Reaching across the table, she clasps my hands. "Honestly, Rolan. You're not eating right. You're constantly tired. Every time I pass the training grounds you're there; day or night. Do you ever take a rest?"

My guilty conscience calls home. my willpower is pushed to the brink of snapping. I can't keep smiling anymore; just like I can't keep pretending everything's alright when it's not. I have to tell somebody how I feel. And I doubt there's anyone more considerate than Dorothea. So long as I'm straightforward with her, she should understand. "I'd rest if I had the time. Sadly, I won't be here much longer; at Garreg Mach, I mean."

My admission floors the songstress. Her shoulders tense and her eyes widen. She swallows a lump in her throat, looking so horribly downcast, "O-Oh? Really?" She gives my digits a supportive squeeze. "This is the first you've mentioned about going away."

"Because I didn't want make a scene of things," I answer gloomily. "I only found out a few days ago. My mother was sick. Pop spent lots of gold getting decent healers. She's fine now... but I don't have the money to keep attending. I mean, we make a good living supplying food for House Goneril's banquets... but the tuition fees here are insane."

"I see..." Dorothea exhales. "When do you leave?"

"End of the semester. A month from now; give or take."

"A month..." She whispers. There's a glimmer of hope in her eyes - though it may be sadly misplaced.

"Would you stay if you could afford it?"

I don't need to think twice.

"Without a doubt. I'd see the rest of the year out. Maybe even work over the summer months to raise the coin for my second year. Why'd you ask?"

"N-No reason..." Dorothea deflects my curiosity with a nervous chuckle. Her smile returns full force. "You know... I really need to thank you, Rolan. It's only right, given you're heading out soon. I'm happy to have spent time with you; it's been a pleasure."

This precious songstress need not be so kind. I owe her. She helped me believe in myself when I ran short of faith. She's shown endless amounts of consideration; even as I've stubbornly pushed time and again beyond the point of collapse. I could never begin to return the favour. "Honestly, there;s no need. Anything I've done pales when I think of how nice you've been."

"Oh stop being modest. Honestly... you helped me see clearly. What you said over dinner; it left a mark. I've not been able to stop thinking about it. M-Maybe it's time I be brave; let go of my fears, and live my life." She puts all of her heart into her confession. Leaning over from across the table, she kisses me on the cheek. "I know it probably rings hollow, since you're worried and all... but it's how I feel."

My breathing hitches. I bite my lip, fighting back tears from welling. "I'm not afraid," I respond with empty strength. What makes you think I'm scared? G-Going home isn't too bad."

Dorothea shakes her head. "We're truly two of a kind after all. It's okay to cry, you know. Real men aren't afraid of showing their feelings."

Her words push me to the brink. I rise from my chair, giving a polite bow. "'Scuse me for a sec. I-I need some air."

Making a hasty retreat, I depart the teahouse. The orange sunset greets me anew as I step outside. Most of the traders have packed up and left by now. The streets are still. Strange, I've fixated on the sunset frequently as of late. It's been a form of comfort.

Today? It doesn't provide any such solace for my aches and pains. I'm cold; empty.

Dorothea joins me outside. "Rolan, are you okay?" she asks kindly. "You don't look so good."

"No... I'm not." Unable to hold back any longer, I cave. My eyes mist. My vision blurs. My throat pulls tight.

Silent tears cascade down my cheeks. "I'm not ready to leave. There's no future for me back home."

Dorothea takes me into her arms, cradling me. She runs her fingers through my hair. Her kind gesture calms my fractured heart. I breathe her flowery perfume, falling further and further into my own little world of solace. I'm tired of hurting; just as I'm tired of pretending everything will be okay. I'm not gonna live my life as nobody."I'm afraid," I confess with a whimper, "I'm afraid of my talents going to waste... Most nobles don't give a damn about us commoners. Unless I make myself useful nobody will care for me."

"That's not true," Dorothea replies. "I care about what happens to you. You're important." I lose myself in her eyes. She's crying too. "Rolan... You're not worthless. To me? You're special... What I mean to say is- I think- I'm falling for-" Dorothea's lips rise into a frightened smile. "No. It's too late for that. I- I'm in love... and it scares me. I tried to ignore it... but I can't. All I can do is hope you feel the same way too."

I cling to Dorothea with all the strength I can muster. I shouldn't lie to her. She deserves better. "But Hilda and I-"

She rests her finger against my lips, "You feel for her, I know... I figured it out already."

"How?!" My stomach flips. "You knew?"

Dorothea sniffles, laying her head upon my shoulder, "It's was obvious - not that I mind. I-I'm no better. I spent too much time teasing the boys before we met. So let's call it even. Just open up - be honest with me; with yourself - especially if we'll part ways soon. Rolan... Do you love me?"

The day I met this girl my perspective shifted. I never would've felt a sense of belonging at the monastery if it weren't for her. My answer is clear.

"Yes Dorothea... I do. I love you."

"I-I'm happy to hear you say it. I feared you wouldn't want a girl like me..."

"What are you saying?"

"I grew up an orphan before joining Mittlefrank." The songstress clings to the lapels of my blazer. "But now? I'm not alone. _I have you_."

She edges nearer; our lips collide. We're joined as one; our hearts entwined. The sunset feels comforting and vibrant again. Yes. I love her; as dearly as I love Hilda. I want to treasure every moment we share; I yearn to learn more of her life growing up in Adrestia. A few weeks ago we were strangers. Now? We're so much more. And it's because I love her that saying goodbye will prove such a woeful task.

"I'm won't watch you walk out of my life," declares Dorothea with dedication as we part. "I'll find a way for you to stay. Consider it my promise."

Again we kiss. I revel in the softness my beloved's warm embrace.


	7. Dedication

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, you guys are really into this, huh? The support for this story's been absolutely awesome. Most appreciated. So I figure I'll step things up a notch. We'll raise the stakes and put some serious focus on our leading ladies. How will they respond to Rolan's struggle? Are you ready?
> 
> Let's begin shall we?

Dorothea and I needed to collect ourselves after such a heartfelt confession on her part. She insisted upon returning to the teahouse - mostly so I could get some proper food inside my groaning stomach. Food that she insisted on paying for no less. I politely refused time and time again: all in vain. Once this young lady has her mind set on something, she doesn't back down. She's headstrong beyond compare - the total reverse of Hilda. I appreciate it. If it weren't for her being insistent I wouldn't be enjoying this lovely slice of chocolate cake.

I've never eaten something with such glee in my whole life. Every forkful has a slightly bitter aftertaste; wonderfully balanced by the richness of cream.

Between bites I notice a hazy look in Dorothea's eyes. It's almost as though she isn't here - a hundred miles away, even.

"Is everything alright?"

"Uh-huh," the brunette answers briefly, "I'm thinking; that's all."

"About what? If you don't mind my asking..."

"Ways I can help you stay here in Garreg Mach."

A weighty topic - one I'd hoped we wouldn't address again tonight. While wrapped up in our emotions we weren't thinking. Now we're calm again, the issue remains. I have four weeks. That's all. And in that time I've gotta sort matters of love with two women - all while helping one of them pass her exams. The cards aren't stacked in my favour. I'm clueless as to what I can do.

"Hmmm..." Dorothea ponders. "What to do." She snaps her fingers, perking up. "Got it. Here's a good start. How much did it cost you to come study here? Sorry, I know it's personal, but it'll help us form a plan."

I wasn't privy to much in the way of details. Pop sorted most of the money-related side of things. But I do know how much the first semester cost with donations to the church included. "About four-hundred gold, plus a charitable gesture for the Knights of Seiros."

"Four-hundred. Okay. Let me think."

Dorothea begins counting on her fingers. "With a donation for the church we're probably looking closer to five; five-hundred. Three semesters in a year; your first one's paid or you wouldn't be here. We're halfway into the second semester... You'll need about half the money for this semester; plus full payment for the next. Let's add up those totals now."

I'm struggling to keep up with her. I'm fine with numbers, but she's throwing herself at the issue a bit too hard.

"I'd say around eight-hundred," Dorothea concludes. "That should be enough to keep you here - come what may. Do you have any family who can help? The Alliance are good for their merchant guilds, right?"

I shake my head abruptly. "No. Sorry. My family owns the largest bakery in Goneril; we have several shops. But we're not the Victor Treading Company. We'd need to fulfil a food order for a whole garrison of Duke Holst's men to get a hold of that sorta money."

Dorothea sighs deeply, "Oh darn. I thought we were on to something there. Think, Dorothea. Think." She returns to her planning full force, tapping her fingers anxiously against the table top. "There has to be something we can do..."

I can't bare seeing the songstress so stressed. I reach over, placing my hand atop hers, "Calm down. We still have time. For the moment let's relax. We'll think things through. If we're hasty it'll only make things worse."

She hides her eyes, threading her fingers with mine, "But I can't sit here and do nothing while you go away. I-I'm happy with you taking the time you need to sort through your feelings with Hilda but-" She brings her eyes closed, "I finally have someone to spend my future beside; I can't lose you."

The serving girl behind the teahouse counter rings a shiny golden bell. "Alright everyone. It's twenty-past the hour. It's already dark. We're closing in ten minutes. Finish up your food 'n drinks."

Whatever we decide to do, out time at the teahouse has come to a close. I get up from the table. Dorothea and I depart the lovely venue, and I hurriedly grab the bread I'd been sent to collect in the first place. Our walk up the hill toward the monastery is quiet; subdued. I see the fear written across Dorothea's face. She nervously wrings her hands; she's lost in thought.

We stay together as we enter the monastery.

"Hey there, students," the gate guard greets us fondly. "Lovely evening, isn't it?"

Dorothea forces a smile. "It certainly is."

This young guardsman is something of a celebrity across the monastery. Professor Byleth is especially kind to him, always asking if he has anything to report in the mornings. No matter the mood, you can't help feeling a little bit happier around the guy. He has an aura of sunshine. "You two take care, you hear?"

"We will, thanks," I reply. "See you later."

Leaving the guard to his duty, we make our way through the main hallway and out toward the commoner dormitories. There aren't many students around, given the time of evening. One or two are rushing for the bathhouse before light's out - but it's mostly still.

"I'm won't give up on you," Dorothea tells me with renewed strength. "No matter what. I'll do everything I can."

I've never had a woman fight for me like this before. Deep down, it feels nice. "You're not one to turn your back on people, are you?"

"Those who do right by me? No," she answers - her eyes bright and fiery. "I'd never dream of it."

"Rolan!" I flinch at Hilda's booming shout. What starts as a pink-haired speck at the far side of the courtyard gets bigger by the second. "Is that you?"

"I'll see you later," chuckles Dorothea, "We'll figure this out, I promise." She gives me a swift peck on the cheek, leaning close to whisper in my ear. "And you'd better be gentle when you decide to tell Hilda about us. Don't go breaking hearts..."

With that, the songstress takes her leave. She ducks into her dorm room a few doors down with just enough time to spare. Until now, I had no idea she lived so close. I thought the female dorms were on the opposite side to the men's dorms. How wrong I must've been.

Hilda skids to a stop by my side, barely staying balanced. "It's been hours," she says in a nervy tone, grabbing me in a crushing hug, forcing me to drop the bread I've been carrying all this time. "I was about to send someone into town to find you. I thought something bad might've happened..."

I bring my arms around Hilda's middle, holding her close. "I'm fine; got a little side-tracked. That's all. Totally my fault."

The pig-tailed lass can try as hard as she likes, but the fear in her eyes is way too clear. A guilt twinge squeezes my stomach. The heartfelt stare she's giving me (one of compassion) it's the same as when Dorothea confessed her feelings today. In an instant I'm disarmed. I feel compelled to hold her tighter and protect her.

And above all else, I have to tell the truth about my departure.

I check ahead and behind patrolling Knights of Seiros. The cost is clear - at least for now.

"Hilda..." I bring my lips against her ear. "Do you wanna stay in my room tonight? I'd like to talk."

Miss Goneril shivers in my embrace, "Oooo... A little naughty, don't you think? Who was the one worried about us getting caught the other day?" She giggles, flashing me a teasing wink. "And I've just showered. If we snuggle up I'll get all sweaty..."

"Please?" I ask again; this time with sincerity. My voice cracks despite my best efforts. "It's important."

"Are you-" Hilda pauses, eying me with concern. She squeezes me a bit tighter, "What's up? Did you run into trouble in town?"

"Not really," I answer. It's best I'm honest with her. "Something bigger. I received a letter; a letter from home. My family are having trouble, and I'd like for you to read it. I'm in a bind right about now."

"Me? But why?"

"You'll see."

* * *

Hilda sits patiently at the foot of my bed. I fumble through the draws of my desk for the stack of letters. Grabbing the newest of the bunch I unfold it, running my finger across the first few lines to double check. Yes. It's the right one. I take my place beside Hilda, placing the letter into her hands. Her expression falls, turning gloomy the farther down the page she reads. By the end, she's unnervingly quiet.

My stomach ties in knots.

"You're leaving?" she passes the letter back, waiting expectantly.

"As things stand, yes. There's not a great deal I can do..."

"B-But-" Hilda clamps her hands against her lap. "This letter... It's dated three weeks ago. Why didn't you say something?"

"Because I didn't open it up 'till about three days back. I don't reply to my letters as diligently as you. I've focused my attention here recently."

Hilda lays back against the bed. Closing her eyes, she massages her temples. "Well this isn't good. I finally open up to you, and you're on the way out of the door. What a pain..."

"I'm sorry."

"Not your fault," she answers dismissively, "I only wished you'd checked your letters sooner."

Miss Goneril is taking this... better than I thought she would. She's not anywhere as winded as Dorothea. It's almost scary how calm she's being. I'm lost for words. What can I say? What can I do? Is there any way I can make this right?

Not a word is spoken between us for the longest time. Nervy jitters claim me. I feel dizzy.

"Oh well..." Hilda gives a sigh. "It is what it is," she surmises quickly, sitting up and opening her eyes. "Nothing can be done about it; so it's not worth getting upset about. You should enjoy your time here while it lasts."

I hadn't seen it that way before today. Not that I'm given time to think.

Hilda throws her arms around my shoulders, holding me to the bed. She locks her lips with mine almost too quickly to fathom. She's frightfully strong and assertive. Her kiss follows with a second; a third; a forth. She's being so rough it hurts.

I pull away, fighting frantically for a mouthful of air.

And that's when I notice. Hilda's eyes are quivering.

Her pain stabs into my chest sharper than a knife.

I try to speak, only to have a finger pressed over my mouth - hard.

"Don't. There's no need. It's fine," Hilda assures me. Her lips rise into a wounded smile. "It's just how these things go. I suppose we aren't meant to be, are we? Shame too... You know I really like you; I've always liked you - since we were little."

A lump forms in my throat. Knowing how dearly she cares for me only makes this sorry situation hurt even more. I don't want you to walk out of my life, Hilda. Please don't turn your back; don't walk away from me. I know this is going to be hard... but I care about you. Be strong; fight for something for once.

Swallowing my fears, I rest my hand against Hilda's face, caressing her soft skin with gentle fingertips. "So you're going to give up?"

Like an overflowing floodgate, Hilda bursts. A stream of tears cascade down her cheeks. "I don't want to but- It's better I just go. Y-You don't need to help me with my test anymore. A-And I won't- I won't sit with you in class from now on."

Miss Goneril gets off me in a hurry; she bolts for the door, stalling as she grabs the handle.

"Forgive me. I'm not strong like you or Professor or Claude... I'll only let you down. It's been nice spending time with you again though, Rolan. _I'll miss you_."

Blurry-eyed, Duke Holst's little sister shoves open the door and runs headlong into the night. She doesn't look back for even a second.

I'm left with a shattered heart and a crumpled letter in my grasp. The evening breeze bites me down to the bone.

Swallowing a bitter scoff, I rise from the bed and push the creaky bedroom doors shut with a bang.

"This is great. Just great..."

Alone and winded, I toss the letter to the floor, banishing the terrible thing from sight.

Hilda is gone. Time runs ever shorter. And I'm powerless to change a darn thing.

**To be continued...**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it. Another chapter comes to a close. Did you like it? Would you like to see more in future? Feel free to leave some feedback and share your thoughts. As always, keep on supporting Fire Emblem and I'll see you in the next chapter. Thanks again!


	8. Hope

Thursday. Only a couple of hours to go until classes are done. The clock at the back of the classroom keeps on ticking. Professor is busy with her lecture on Unified Strategy. Honestly, I've not been paying much attention. Don't get me wrong, I'm not bored by the topic. It's merely a case of having more pressing matters to hand. More specifically, a certain songstress of the Black Eagle House.

And then there's Hilda. True to her word, she swapped benches the morning after learning of my not so distant departure. We've barely talked unless there's a group project in class. Even then, she tries her best to partner up with Claude or Ignatz. Every time I glance her way she gives me a terribly sad smile and turns her attention to Professor's lecture.

Does she hate me? Is she angry I didn't speak with her sooner about my family?

No! I can't think like that. I should focus instead on Dorothea. Specifically, her unexpected visit this morning.

It all started at the crack of dawn.

I awoke to a knock at my bedroom door. The sun had barely risen and I was far from ready to face the world.

Sleep prevented my head from leaving the pillow. And so I kept ignoring the gentle tapping. But it didn't stop. It kept going and going.

"Whoever it is must urgently need my attention," I thought at the time.

I first wondered if it was a knight or a monk.

"No, it couldn't be," I groaned groggily, "Just go back to sleep, Rolan."

Lady Rhea's supporters don't usually come knocking unless a member of the church needs to speak with you directly. And not being the most devout believer, I don't have much in the way of business with them. I'm here to train; not indulge matters of faith.

I was about to climb out of bed and answer the door, goddess knows the noise had gone on for long enough. Fortunately, it stopped as I pulled back the covers. A small folded note slid under the crack in my doorway not long afterward.

Upon getting up for the day I checked the note. Distinctly curly handwriting upon the back of the piece of paper told me all I needed to know. There's no mistaking the way Dorothea writes. She's slipped me notes a couple of times now - usually when classes finish.

Curious as to what she wanted, I lit a candle and started reading.

_Morning Rolan. Sorry I stopped by so early. I have some good news. I've been talking with Edelgard and I think there's a way you can stay at the monastery. Stop by my dorm after classes finish at six. It's the one three doors to the right of yours. See you then. P.S. Do you like travelling? Dorothea x x x_

The message's contents have been on my mind all day. It's why I keep glancing with such eagerness toward the clock. If Dorothea truly has an idea then I'd like to hear it. I've gotta try anything and everything to stick around. No way am I going to back out after coming this far. I've learned so much. Not to mention I've made two very deep promises with two very special ladies.

"Alright, class," Professor Byleth's calm but assertive voice grabs my attention. I snap my eyes forward. She brings her textbook closed, sitting atop her desk at the front of the room with one leg folded over the other. "Expect a short practical test on Monday. You'll need it for Zanado. That'll be all for today. Tomorrow we're focusing on spear combat."

Church bells chime. The end of the day is here. I'd better get on my way to the dorms.

"Rolan," calls Professor as the room empties out. I stop just short of stepping out of the door and turn back. She gives me the faintest smile - almost so tiny it could be mistaken as a flutter of the imagination. "Could I have a minute, please? I'd like to pose a question."

"'Course, ma'am. Give me a sec."

Setting down my satchel bag, I head over to the front of the classroom. By now everybody else has piled out. I'm alone with Miss Byleth. She pulls out a chair from beside her desk, offering it to me. "Have a seat."

My stomach twitches nervously. It's not often I'm called back like this. Whatever the case, I sit down as requested. Am I in trouble? It's always hard to tell what Professor's thinking. Outside of lessons she's a woman of few words. Kind, yes. But also very subtle when showing her emotions.

"I'll get straight to the point. I'm worried about you and Hilda, Rolan."

True to her nature, she's not messing around.

My nervy stomach almost flips. I fight to stay steady with a short breath through the nose. "What do you mean, Professor?"

I'm given an uneasy frown by my teacher. "Everyone in class knows the two of you are fast friends. Lately you've been side-by-side; inseparable, even if you answer few questions in my lectures. I was happy to see the two of you working together. But this past few days you've both seemed very... withdrawn. Does this have something to do with Hilda moving benches the other day?"

"N-Not really," I answer, trying my best to avoid the issue. Professor is busy enough. She doesn't need dragging into my problems. "Everything's fine. Honestly."

"Forgive me, but I don't believe you, Rolan." Miss Byleth brings her hands together, presenting me with a faint but welcoming smile. "You're more than welcome to speak with me if there's a problem. We're close to the same age, so you needn't feel intimidated. I see you Golden Deers as much my friends as I do my students."

"Thanks, Professor. But nothing's wrong. You can count on it."

"Fair enough," she replies with a hint of disappointment, "But may I at least give you a hint of advice? More as a comrade and less your teacher?"

"Sure thing. Always happy to listen."

"Don't have fallings out with your friends. These battles we fight on behalf of the church are dangerous. Not that I intend to let harm befall anyone, but still... Regrets are terrible things. Respect those you care for. It's a lesson I've held close since joining this monastery."

Trust you to always have insightful advice, Miss Byleth. If Hilda comes around I'll do my best to talk with her again. She means more to me than you'll ever know. I'd rather keep her close. I hate feeling so far away from her.

"Thanks, Professor." I rise from my chair and give a grateful bow. "Mind if I go now? I've got places to be."

"You're quite welcome to leave," she answers. "Go ahead and enjoy the rest of your afternoon."

Alright! No time to lose. Dorothea should be waiting by the dorms.

* * *

Yep. I called it; the songstress is right on time - three doors down from my room. She waves me over; sporting a cheery grin. I feel fresh and optimistic seeing her like this. Here's hoping her news is good news. Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I hurry along and join her.

"Nice to see you looking so happy, my lady."

"I've found it; a way you can stay," Dorothea declares brightly, "Come on inside." She nudges open the doors to her room. "Make yourself comfy and I'll explain everything. I think I've outdone myself, if I do say so."

Kind and confident. That's my lovely lass to a tee.

Dorothea's living space differs a little to my expectations. A snug single bed with velvet sheets is tucked in the corner nearest the doors; sat at the footboard is a large mannequin sporting an absolutely divine ballroom gown with fine Adrestian-style trim. At the back of the room are a varnished dresser and a makeup table with a gold trimmed mirror. Everything is clean and perfectly spotless to boot. Damn - I'd be embarrassed to show her my plain and untidy abode by comparison.

"Sit on the bed, it's quite alright," says Dorothea, bringing the doors closed.

I do as I'm asked. She's quick to sit with me. We share an affectionate cuddle away from prying eyes. Her closeness soothes me after such a tiring day of classes. Her rosewood perfume is a comforting scent. I'm lucky to have her; I'd like to stay like this for a while and forget my troubles.

Dorothea links her fingers with mine, giving me a comforting squeeze. "It's nice being with the one you love, don't you think?"

It's almost as though you're reading my mind, Miss Arnault.

"You bet it is."

We enjoy the peace and quiet for a time, content in little more than being together.

My folks said before I left home that life's simple pleasures were often the sweetest. They'd cuddle up beside the fire when I was little, or they'd hum songs together out on the porch on starry nights. Younger me never really understood the purity of their love, but now I see it clearly. Pop's a simple man, and mother shied away from her chance to become a consort and married from the heart.

I place my lips upon Dorothea's cheek. She returns my gesture gladly. We're much the same, simple people with dreams.

"Did you give what I asked in my note some thought, Rolan?"

"Which part in particular, dearest?"

"About travelling. How would you feel if a chance to see the world fell into your lap?"

"I've always viewed travel as par the course if I'm to become a bodyguard. I'm open to the idea. Why'd you ask?"

I'd go wherever my charge travelled. It's one of the many reasons why such a dangerous job appeals to me. I could depart Alliance lands; visit sights and cities beyond Goneril. Not as a mercenary, of course - as the sworn protector to a lord or lady. I'm proud of where I come from. My budding skills are worthy of nobility. All I need is extra time to improve them.

"I talked with Edelgard," answers Dorothea. "I told her of your plight, and she asked to know more. Your skill with a sword was her key interest. It's no secret you're very good; as good as Petra, even."

Color me surprised, "Miss Edelgard saw my duel with Petra?"

The Battle of Eagle and Lion - Professor fielded me as a counter to Brigid's princess over in the Black House. It was a good fight - I have a lotta respect for Miss Petra. We fought to a narrow draw, and I was knocked down later by Dedue of the Blue Lions. The fellow's a brute - but I admire his loyalty to Faerghus' crown prince.

"Not quite," Dorothea chuckles, "But Bernie certainly recounted the tale. Oh yes. After fleeing to safety she told Edel all about our warrior princess crossing swords with a well-mannered and dark-haired Golden Deer student. She promptly fainted afterward..."

No way?! Really? Granted, my exchange with Petra has been of my most enjoyable moments as a student - but I thought it would be forgotten after the battle reached its end. "Are you making this up to lift my spirits?"

"No, I certainly aren't. Regardless of how quiet you are, you've gained a reputation as a skilled swordsman for the Golden Deer. Why do you think I warmed to you when first we met? I was curious, Rolan Gasalt. I wanted to learn more of the kind of person you are."

"Let me get this straight. Dorothea, you knew who I was the whole time?"

"Indeed. I most certainly did."

How foolish it was to think I didn't belong. Students in my house and others were interested in me from the beginning. If only I'd gotten over my fears before meeting this lovely lady, I could've made more friends. Such a revelation warms me.

But it doesn't solve my current issue. There's no sense in being cheerful if I can't stay much longer.

"As grateful as I am, love... I've gotta wonder. Why are you telling me this? Heaping praise upon my skills and talking of travel."

"Oh I wonder," she teases with a wink. "Maybe I put in a kind word with the future empress of Adrestia..."

Good Goddess! Is she saying what I think she's saying?

"Y-You what?"

"Yep," Dorothea hums victoriously, squeezing me against her chest. She pecks my cheek with glee. "I told Edelgard everything over tea and biscuits. How I fell for you; how I want to stay by your side, and your money troubles. She understood perfectly."

I have no idea if I should be honored or afraid. Most nobles don't care about commoners! "You brought my simple woes before Edelgard Von Hresvelg? And she actually gave a damn?"

"You sound surprised. Edel's a lovely girl when you get to know her."

I gaze into Dorothea's powerful eyes of brown - desperate for answers. "How did she react?"

"You, my darling," the songstress frees up one of her hands and boops me gently on the nose, "Are being considered for an Adrestian Military Scholarship. If you're accepted, you'll be allowed to stay until the end of the year; all expenses paid. In exchange, you'll join the Black Eagles and study beside us. All to prepare you for training in Enbarr over the following summer."

I can only stare in amazement. "I- Wow! The Adrestian capital? Dorothea! I-I-"

"A thank you is all I'm after, Rolan."

"Thank you... Thank you!"

Dorothea brings our lips together; we join in perfect harmony. She nudges me back. I fall against the bed.

My songstress slinks atop of me, wrapping her arms around my middle. "Hold me," she asks desperately, "Please?"

"It'd be my pleasure."

I embrace Dorothea with compassion.

"I'm relieved," she confesses blissfully, resting her head of chocolate brown curls against the nape of my neck. "So long as Edel approves, you'll get to stay. We'll be together until graduation day... _and beyond_."

"Beyond?"

"Why of course. You're stuck me with now, Mister. And I wouldn't have it any other way."

More days like these, with Dorothea at my side? I'd be the luckiest man in Fodlan.

At least one of the women whom I cherish wants to fight for our love.

I'm not angry with you, Hilda. Really I'm not. But in my heart of hearts I'd hoped you'd stick by me.

Sadly, I was mistaken.

So, here I'll stay, with the most beautiful girl in the Black Eagle House...

...even if I miss you dearly, my childhood friend.

**To be continued...**


	9. Lipstick

At last; a chance presents itself. I may be able to stay here after all. With it however, comes a decision.

The Black Eagles are in one hand. My homeland rests in the other.

It's been a week. I can't bring myself to decide. Goddess be praised, Dorothea is happy. Heck, we met again on Saturday to talk over my concerns with Adrestia. She's becoming increasingly cheerful as time slips through the hourglass. I saw the happiness in her eyes as we parted ways before bed the other evening. There's hopefulness in each kiss we share; she's even taken to holding me by the arm when we walk the streets of Garreg Mach's township.

What to do. There's lots for for me to consider.

Do I have it in me to serve the Empire? Now that I think about it, how would my parents feel if I left for a foreign holding? I'm Alliance-born. Goneril is my homeland. Duke Holst is the firm but fair ruler of the lands my family built their bakeries upon.

And speaking of Goneril, things haven't improved between Hilda and me. She's continued keeping her distance. Sure, she'll occasionally glance my way, but she's quick to retreat when our eyes meet. She looks so unhappy; pained, even. It's as though she wants to reach out to me but won't.

Have I been selfish? Did I let my hurt get in the way?

"Rolan," Professor Byleth calls from the front of the classroom. She taps her chalk upon the board. "You missed roll call. Should I mark you as absent?"

Goddess - I'm spacing out again. "No ma'am," I shake my head. "I'm here. Just a mite distracted. Sorry 'bout that."

My response gains a few giggles from my classmates.

Professor sighs shortly, "Please pay attention. It's not like one of our best swordsman to daydream at his desk."

"Won't happen again, Professor."

Class pushes ahead well enough. Lysithea rises from her seat to answer questions about Magical Theory; she powers through about six or seven pages before anybody else gets a word in. Not that anyone matches her skills. Small she might be (and I wouldn't dare say it to her face) but she's extremely talented in her knowledge of the dark arts. They say she reduced a bandit to ash in a recent skirmish. Scary. Very scary.

"Very good, Lysithea," praises Miss Byleth. "You can sit down now. I have an announcement to make."

Once Lysithea is seated Professor stands from her desk. She grabs a fresh chalk and commands everyone's attention by sharply clearing her throat. Idle chatter falls away; the classroom is quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

"As you know, another group of brigands have occupied Zanado. The Knights of Seiros asked us help in this matter. With this in mind, we'll be travelling to the Red Canyon this Sunday to deal with them. I've already made my selections, so please listen carefully..."

There's an anxious flutter in my stomach. I've only been selected once so far - outside of The Battle of Eagle and Lion. Miss Byleth placed me in the rear-guard against those strangely dressed flame cult guys. I crossed swords with a few of them; had to take them down. Having to end another living breathing person left a heavy feeling in my stomach, but it's the reality of battle. You live or you die.

"Everyone I list needs their garrisons and equipment ready for a final check on Saturday."

Professor starts drawing up names on the chalkboard.

_Claude_

_Leone_

_Lysithea_

Sir Claude's a given, while Leone and Lysithea are two of our very best. I'm not surprised.

_Ignatz_

_Hilda_

My stomach dips a little. I do hope Hilda will be alright out there on the battlefield.

_Rolan_

_Marianne_

Me? I didn't see that coming. Guess I have a sword to polish in preparation for Sunday. Battle should help take my mind off things. It'll be a real test, too; a situation entirely different from the practice battle shared by the Three Houses recently. Here's hoping I'm up for the task. Scratch that - _I am_ up for the task. Bandits cause nothing but grief for kind-hearted people. It'll be an honor to best a few in battle.

Church bells chime loudly, signalling the end of class for the day. Okay. I should begin getting ready. The day after next? Zanado.

I quickly gather up my papers and slide them into the safety of my satchel. Being at the back of the classroom makes it easy to leave without hassle. I'll stop by my dorm room to pick up my sword before heading in the direction of the training grounds. What better way to prepare for combat than through practice?

"Rolan..." I stall at Hilda's voice; my heart thumps, "Do you have a minute?" I turn back, stopping in the middle of the busy courtyard. Miss Goneril fast approaches. "Please? I won't take up too much of your time. Not if you don't want me to."

I have no right to feel angry - not when I was quick to dismiss her in favor of Dorothea. I should follow Professor's advice and be kind. "What's up, Hilda?"

"Professor put your name on the board... I wanted to be sure you're okay."

"It's a few bandits," I force a smile to calm her fears, "What's the worst that could happen?"

"I-I guess you're right... But don't go wearing yourself out fighting. It'd be waaay to much hassle."

I've no reason to feel uneasy. Even before coming to the academy I spent plenty of time honing my passion.

"No need to fret," I reassure Hilda, "I'm looking forward to sharpening all I've learned on the frontline."

Miss Goneril comes nearer, resting her hand upon my shoulder. She stares nervously, "Or you could stay at the back when the battle starts; where it's safe - _beside me_." Her lips rise into a glassy smile, "I'd be way less stressed if I knew you were out of harm's way. I- I could-" She pauses, blushing furiously "I guess I could watch out for you... But don't expect too much."

It's good to see Hilda pushing herself. Not for my sake; for her own.

"Sounds to me like you're enthusiastic," I tease gently, "Well... As enthusiastic as you can be."

My heart aches behind the facade. Just a few days back we were fine. Now? My childhood friend feels so far away. If I keep forcing this my composure's gonna crack. Everyone's leaving lessons at once. I can't falter in front of such a large group of people.

I ease back, "Guess I'll be off. Do enjoy the rest of-"

"Rolan, wait... I made a mistake," Hilda's grip upon my shoulder tightens the slightest bit. "I panicked the other night. I was afraid I'd only disappoint you. But that doesn't mean I don't care about what happens between us... _I do_ , I promise."

A few of the other students are us giving strange glances. I hear whispers from some of my first-year Golden Deer classmates. Now isn't the time for a conversation like this one. The last thing we need is gossip to deal with. Goddess knows the entire monastery is full to the brim with tall tales. Very few are content to keep to their own business. "We should finish this talk later."

"Y-You're probably right. Or we could get out of here. Let's go." Hilda snags me by the wrists and leads the way out of the courtyard. She pulls me along with surprising strength. Finally, we come to a stop by the commoner dorms - out front of my room. It's quiet here. We can conduct our talk in peace and quiet.

"I'm sorry for running out the way I did." Smiling painfully, Hilda lowers her head, "I-I'm not good under pressure, you know me."

Professor Byleth's advice returns to mind. I shouldn't be arguing with friends and classmates. Seeing Hilda so damn sad brings her point hammering home with awful clarity. I'm terrible for judging her. Life is fleeting and dangerous. Even if the two of us end up walking separate paths in time, my flame won't fade.

"It's alright, Hilda." I pat her upon the head. "Stop apologizing. I couldn't lose my temper with you. I just took things a bit too personally."

Fearfully meeting her eyes with mine, Hilda presents her hand.

"What's this for?"

"Our promise," she answers me, "Even if you can't stay at the monastery... let's do our best while you're here. Shall we?"

Whatever the future brings, be it a summer in Adrestia or the toasty ovens at one of Gesalt Bakery shops, I can't bare being at odds with Hilda. I accept her hand and reaffirm our agreement with a soft touch of my lips against her skin. "Whatever happens... I'll always regard you warmly."

"Happy to hear it." Having gotten what she yearned for, Hilda's expression turns cool and serious. "Now that's outta the way... Are you free tonight, before lights out? Or are you seeing Dorothea?"

I twitch at Miss Goneril's question. How is the rumour mill spinning so quickly? I've tried with extra vigor in the passing days to keep my priviate life under wraps. "Who's twisting stories like these? The Black Eagle's songstress keeping the company of a guy like me?"

Hilda gives a wry chuckle, "I overheard Sylvain. He was grumbling about Dorothea turning him down for the ball. And I realized why when I saw her outside your dorm on Thursday. It was after sunset - on my way from the bathhouse. _She kissed you_."

There's no sense in denying it. Try as I might, word travels fast. Really, I'm lucky to have kept my feelings for Dorothea quiet for as long as I have. I bow my head in defeat. "Ah, you saw that? Well... It's true. I won't lie to you... I care about her, as much as I care about you."

Hilda's stony leer softens. She snorts with laughter. Stunned, I raise my head to face her.

She flashes me a mischievous wink, "I knew it. Knew it since day one. Goodness, Rolan. Playing it risky, aren't we?"

"Y-You what? Excuse me?"

"Oh c'mon now. It was so obvious. I see how she gives you googly eyes in the hallways. _I noticed weeks ago_."

"You already knew?" Well damn. I've been tricked. I deserve it too. "Why wait until now to say something?"

"Cuz I wanted to wait for the dust to settle after the other night. Annnd I wanted to see if you'd own up; confess your feelings like a real man. You passed my little test with flying colors, if a little late. You're still the nice little boy I remember from my childhood after all."

"A-A test?" I can hardly believe it. "You're not angry?"

"A little," Hilda admits, "But I'm a big girl. I can handle some competition - even if it's a bit of a pain. And why should I be worried?" Her expression drops a bit. "You'll be leaving-" The noble lass pauses. Her eyes widen as though she's been struck by a lightning bolt of inspiration. "N-No! I've got it... You don't need to leave. I have an amazing idea! I'll write to my brother, and I'll go see Lady Rhea."

The Archbishop? How might she help the situation?

"I'm lost as to what you're thinking, Hilda."

"I'll explain everything later. I only hope there's still enough time. Can I stop by your room later tonight?"

Whatever she has in mind, I shouldn't turn her down. I'll cut back on my swordplay. I'll make time.

"Sure. I'll be back from the training grounds before lights out."

"Fantastic." Hilda draws me into her arms, cuddling me like a teddy bear. "I'll see you later!"

With a peck on my cheek, she's off again. This is the most serious I've ever seen her.

* * *

Midnight. I can't sleep no matter how hard I try. My every attempt at relaxing is met with restless thoughts. How will Hilda support me? What will I do if Dorothea's plan falls through? I'll be left with no choice but to return home to Goneril. How am I supposed to look mother and father in the eye again? Will they see me as a failure for not finding a way to stand against the unforgiving hands of circumstance? Damn it. This is all so frustrating.

I suppose it's true what Pop said. I can be awfully negative at times. It's hard to stay hopeful when a situation's out of your control. It's why combat appeals to me. You improve so long as you're dedicated. It's a matter of skill and fortitude - not fortune.

I turn over and close my eyes. Hilda's yet to stop by again. I wonder why she needs to write home, and speak with Lady Rhea. The archbishop is a busy woman. She doesn't have the time for the plight of a commoner like me. And Duke Holst is concerned with keeping the Almyrans at bay.

"Need to sleep," I grumble, burying my face within my pillow. "I've tossed and turned long enough."

There's no way I can begin preparing for the battle at Zanado unless I'm well-rested. There's no room for sleepy mistakes.

Leaning over, I blow out the bedside candle. It's about time I-

A faint knocking upon the door flares my senses. No way is somebody wandering around this late at night. It's two hours past curfew; the knights usually patrol for the more rebellious students at this hour. It's probably just my imagination.

"Rolan," comes a whisper from beyond the door; Hilda's whisper. Okay. It's definitely not my mind playing tricks on me. She knocks again, this time harder. "Psst. Would you let me in? It's cold out here..."

If we're caught, we're in trouble. If I leave her outside to freeze, I'm equally in trouble. I need to let her in.

Quietly climbing out of bed, I slip on my short trousers and stumble toward the door. Thank goodness I'm fairly adept at getting around in the dark. Collected, I pull back the deadbolt and bring the doors open.

"About time." Hilda mumbles. There's no wonder she's cold. She's not wearing her class uniform. A short (dark pink) nightgown just barely conceals her wide hips and ample curves; while a simple pair of frilly white ankle socks cover her dainty feet. Slung over her shoulder is a small leather satchel bag.

Goodness she looks pretty; with the midnight moon beaming down upon her smoothly lotioned skin she could be mistaken for an angel. I take a deep breath, and a second. Dammit, Rolan. Keep it together.

"Are you gonna let me in? Kinda chilly out here."

"O-Of course." I snap back to the moment. What am I doing, gawking like an idiot? Taking a backward step, I welcome Hilda into my room. I'm quick to re-light my bedside candle after bolting the door shut behind us.

"Well that was tiring," Hilda exhales exhaustedly, flopping down against my untidy bed. "I've never had to sneak around like that before..." The noble lass breathes deeply; her chest rises and falls in a weighty rhythm. Collected again, she sits upright and gives a wink. "Sorry I'm a little late."

"A little late?" I bite my tongue to avoid raising my voice, "It's midnight, Hilda," I scoff, "What held you up?"

"It took way longer to write home than I planned. Then I waited for hours to see Lady Rhea; she was busy at the cathedral. I totally forgot it's choir day."

I roll my eyes. When Hilda's not brilliant she can be outright ditzy. More than that, her explanation doesn't make any darn sense. Most staff and students are fast asleep at this hour. Why's she wandering around in her nightclothes? There's no way in the name of the goddess she visited the archbishop dressed so informally. A woman as pure and regal as Lady Rhea would blush at the sight of so much bare skin.

"It's midnight - the twelfth hour," I double down, "Why come all this way?"

"I want to be extra sure everything's alright between us..." Hilda smiles weakly, lowering her head. "You deserve a real apology, for the way I ran out on you last week." Her voice is raspy; strained. She clamps her hands tightly in her lap. "I know you said it's fine, but- I-It was wrong of me... I'm so sorry. I mean it, from the bottom of my heart. Can you forgive me, Rolan?"

Her words mean a lot. I'd be lying if I said her swift departure the other day didn't sting, but she didn't need to risk being seen out so late at night. Furthermore, I should be the one apologizing. Hilda's going out of her way for me; she deserves honesty. "Only if you can forgive me... You and Dorothea- I'm selfish for-"

"Oh my, you're a precious first-year in plenty of ways. Don't be upset." Hilda covers her mouth to stifle laughter. She's grinning like I'm an innocent little kid. "We're in a monastery; we're surrounded by dozens of young nobles and rising commoners. Everyone's looking for the most handsome lord, or the perfect lover. Lemme ask a question. How many do you think bend Lady Rhea's rules on courtship?"

I haven't thought about it before, "Erm... I dunno. Maybe a few?"

" _Almost everyone_ ," Hilda sniggers. "You needn't feel bad," she assures me. "It's why there's the tradition of choosing your true love on the night of the ball."

"R-Really? Could've fooled me. You're not unhappy with me?"

"I was a little at first... but you're forgiven. I trust you've not been too naughty. You're a sweetheart."

Hilda opens her arms to me, pleading with her eyes for my embrace, "Now... How about you come over here?"

A request I cannot refuse.

At a single nod on my part Hilda rises from the bed; beyond pleased, she throws her arms around me. I breathe the sweetly honeyed scent of her shampoo, holding her with all of my heart. I thought she'd given up on me. I was wrong. Both she and Dorothea are trying in their own ways to support me, even if Hilda has yet to open up on her newfound idea.

Whatever. It doesn't matter; not right now. At this very moment I'd rather treasure this lass for all she's worth.

Yes, she's lazy at times. But I wouldn't be without her.

"I thought you'd be upset with me," Hilda confesses with quivering eyes. "Every time I get scared of disappointing people I run away."

"And this time around you didn't," I reply with warmth and gratitude, "You came back to me. I'm happy you did... Because-" I pause nervously; my whole body feels warm all of the sudden. I should tell her; Hilda deserves to know my innermost.

"Because what?" she asks with concern, "Is every-"

"It was wrong of me to doubt you, Miss Goneril; as wrong and selfish as having eyes for two women. I'll admit it here and now. You're kind; you're thoughtful. And you're supportive. A-And I know I shouldn't... but if I carry on like this I'll fall in love with you..."

Hilda blinks. Once. Twice. Thrice. The corners of her mouth rise into a wide grin. "Oh Rolan..." She grabs me, burying her face against my shirt. "Why are you so scared of how you feel? You've grown up to be such a lovely guy, but you've gotta stop overthinking everything. It's gonna make you unwell."

"Why I'm scared? You might not like the answer..."

"Try me, silly."

They say looking in the mirror is the hardest task of all. Here goes nothing.

"Ever since I was small I've had my dream; my passion to pick up a sword and fight. It drives me forward against all odds. It's shaped my outlook in everything I pursue. I wanna be someone; show the world what I can do. If I don't... I'm worthless - wasted talent."

Hilda gasps. My words wound her. She clings even tighter to my shirt, "Stop being so gloomy. You're not worthless... _not to me."_

I wish I could believe her, "You really think so?"

"Uh-huh. 'Course I do. You know your what your problem is? You put way too much on your shoulders. Buck up." Hilda rests her head upon my shoulder, sighing. "Learn to love yourself... You're a lovable person. I'd know... cuz I _love you._ "

I'm stunned to silence. My eyes blur with water. "You can't mean that."

"But I do. I love you. And even if I'm afraid... I'll fight for you; for us. After all, you need me as much as I need you."

"Hilda I-"

"Don't say anything. You don't have to. My first dance is yours on the night of the ball. All I ask is you be a gentleman."

She eases my deep-rooted pain with her lips against mine.

We share tearful kisses - lost in the heat of the moment. The soft hue of orange candlelight shimmers against Hilda's perfect skin.

I wish this moment could last forever.

Hilda eventually breaks away, drying her eyes. She steps around me, picking up her discarded leather satchel. I watch with interest as she starts rooting around inside, "Where did I put it?" she hums. "Ah, there it is." From the depths of her bag she brings out a small red cylinder. Popping off the top reveals a stick of rosy pink lipstick. "Thought it was here somewhere."

She brushes it sensually across the surface of her pillowy lips, blowing a playful kiss my way. "C'mere..." She purrs lovingly, inviting me with a waggle of the finger. "I've been waiting to give this a try..."

My breaths quicken. I'm hot under the collar. "Isn't that stuff crazy expensive? Doesn't it stain?"

"All the more reason you take off your shirt for me. It's okay. I'll be careful to leave it in places the Professor can't see."

Miss Goneril casts aside the lipstick and inches nearer. She latches onto my collar. With attentive fingers she slowly brings my buttons loose one at a time. "You're sweating," she teases as my garment comes free, exposing my glistening chest. "Hmm... I'm gonna enjoy this."

"Hi-Hilda," I rasp. "We should be-"

She drops to her knees and brings her lips against my stomach. She's tender in her movements, slowly inching higher and higher until her eyes meet with mine again. A trail of lip-shaped marks cover my tummy, rising toward my neck in a smooth and even pattern. Beads of sweat inch down my glistening skin. All the while Hilda brings an arm over my shoulder and around the back of my neck.

Our lips join as one. I surrender all that I am to her, moaning in passionate submission. T-This is what heaven feels like.

Hilda shivers when we part, "W-Wonderful. She brings her hands lower; joining them with mine, she flashes a glance toward the bed. Shall we bundle up beneath the blankets? I'd love to listen to your heartbeat again. I'm sleepy..."

"Of course."

We climb into bed and cuddle beneath the sheets. I lean over to blow out the candle. Hilda coils am arm around my stomach once she's nice and comfy, laying her head of silky pink hair against my chest. She clasps my hand in hers and squeezes tightly. Comforted by her gesture, I feel my eyes gradually becoming heavier.

"Rolan," Hilda whispers, "When we head out to Zanado... stick close to me. Don't be reckless."

I chuckle in light of her consideration, "What makes you think I'd be reckless?"

"You're eager to prove yourself," she answers, planting her loving lips against the nape of my neck. "You try too hard."

"And you should try a little harder."

"Hmmm..." Hilda closes her eyes, yawning. "We're made for each-other."

I some ways, I couldn't agree more. "Yep. I'd say we are."

It's so peaceful being beside someone special like this. I wouldn't change it for the world. Slowly but surely my worries melt away, leaving me alone for a time. I bring my eyes shut too.

"I'm not worried about her," Hilda mumbles in a tired haze, "Dorothea, I mean..." She holds me tighter, "Cuz I've got you figured, Rolan. Who you are. How you feel. You're my loyal baker boy; you'd never betray me. _I trust you'll stay by my side_. It's why I went to Lady Rhea..." The noble lass yawns again. "...To ask if you can remain here..." Without another word, my dear lady falls into a peaceful slumber.

Now I know why Hilda hurried off earlier. And I couldn't be more thankful.

Both the women I love are fighting for me. I'll soon have to stand tall and decide where my heart belongs.

Until then? I'll get some much-needed sleep.

** To be continued... **


	10. Visitor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! This is the point where the story branches off into a different route. The Black Eagle path will be starting soon; so be sure to follow me and bookmark so you're the first to know when it goes live. Thank you for reading so far.

I cannot continue being afraid of causing pain. Both Dorothea and Hilda have been straightforward and honest. They've even given me time to put my affections into perspective. Not many women would be so kind in their pursuit of another. If this were Leone she would've told me to man up and decide already. if it were Lysithea? I shudder to consider the spooky hexes she'd throw on me for wasting her time. With dawn's first light as witness, I've gotta make up my mind. If I leave things any longer it'll only hurt more.

A sudden knock at my bedroom door sets my heart to racing.

Hilda stirs in her sleep. My skin burns with fearful heat. We can't be seen together so early in the morning!

"Wha- What is it?" she mumbles; her face buried against my neck.

I shush the girl. "You'd better hide under the covers. I'll keep the candles out while I check who's there. Stay quiet."

"Kay then," she says in a slurred mumble. Does the gravity of this situation not phase her?!

I haul my tired body out of bed, scooping up my discarded shirt from its resting place beside the dresser. Hilda hunches into a ball, pulling the covers over her head. Alright. It's the best we can do in this situation. So long as my unexpected visitor doesn't peer beyond the door we should be fine - hopefully.

Again there's a knock - this one a tad stronger than the last. I slip on my shirt and release the deadbolt on the door. Okay, Rolan. You can do this. Keep calm and collected. Take a deep breath in. And out.

My heart thumps at double speed as I pull the doors wide.

"Good morning, Rolan." Striking blue hair. Wide sapphire eyes. A tall and collected lass with a powerful aura.

"Professor? It's really early," I yawn. "Can I help at all?"

"Sorry to bother you at this hour, but you have a visitor," she informs me. "Your father. He rode almost two days straight to see you. Lady Rhea has offered him a room in the second floor dormitory, on account of his short-notice. He wishes to talk with you as soon as you're able. It's urgent."

What in the world?! Pop's here?! He didn't mention anything about this in his letters. Everything was going fine (aside money) last I'd heard. I take a breath in a vain attempt at staying composed. "My old man's really here? Did he say what for?!"

Miss Byleth's calm expression falters. She bares a tiny frown. "It concerns your mother's illness. He said you'd know the rest."

Oh goddess no. My throat tightens. I feel sick all of the sudden.

"T-Thank you for letting me know. I'll get dressed properly and go see him."

"It's for the best," answers Professor. "And Rolan... before I go. A question. Worry not. I won't keep you."

"What's up?"

"Have you spoken with Hilda since our little talk? Some of the knights say she's acting strangely."

"Strange? How so?"

"She petitioned Lady Rhea late last night; something about making a large donation to the church. Has she mentioned anything?"

So that's why she turned up so late! I'll bet this donation is a goodwill gesture to help my cause. I'd better keep coy. "Sorry, Professor - can't say she has. We met up after class, but she didn't say much."

"Alright. I merely wondered; that's all." Professor retreats from the door a few steps; she bows her head politely. "I hope all is well for you at home. I'll see you later today for the garrison check. Oh... and one last thing." She holds a finger to the side of her neck. "I'll pretend you don't have lipstick marks smeared all over. But do make sure they're washed off by the the end of the day. Are we clear?"

Dammit! I should've been more careful.

"Yes ma'am. Perfectly."

"Good... I'll see you later, Rolan."

I breathe a sigh of relief once Miss Byleth is out of sight. Right! I'd better go see what father wants. If he's come all this way, I can only wonder how everything's going in Goneril. I push the doors shut and slide the deadbolt into place.

"Rolan?" Hilda throws off the bedsheets. She eyes me with concern. "Are you okay? You look scared."

I sit beside her. We share a short hug. I'm beyond grateful for her comfort right now. It's best I keep a brave face. "I'll be fine. My pop's come all this way, so I'd better check in with him. I'm sure it's nothing bad; he's probably here to tell me mother needs longer to recover."

Hilda squeezes me against her chest, kissing me lovingly on the cheek. "Whatever happens, I'm here for you. It's a promise."

"Thank you, Hilda."

I should get on my way. But first? I need a handkerchief to get rid of this lipstick.

* * *

A Knight of Seiros leads the way to my old man's room. Right. I can do this. Whatever he came all this way for, I'm ready. There's no reason to let my worries get the better of me. You're in control of your emotions, Rolan. You are the boss.

"Pop, it's me," I start with a light tap on the door. "I'm coming in."

Prepared for anything, I head inside.

One of my father's most prominent features is his big old grin. He's brighter than sunshine most've the time; A stocky brute of a fellow, built thick with muscle and sporting a portly belly from way too much pastry. He's the heart and soul of the room most days. Except today.

"Hey there kiddo," he forces a thin smile, running a paw-like hand through his messy greyish-black curls. "We've gotta talk. It's about yer mother."

Oh no. Dad, please don't say what I think you're gonna say. I'm not ready.

"Is she," I nearly choke on my words, "She okay?"

Pop jabs a thumb toward a simple wooden chair by the doorway. He snags a clear glass bottle of wine from atop the bedside table once I'm seated, followed by two crystalline drinking glasses. Goddess, he's so terribly stony and serious compared to usual.

It's scaring me. I'll vomit if my stomach churns much longer.

"They say you ain't supposed to drink in a monastery outside of ceremonies," father scoffs, taking up the chair beside mine. "But that Geralt fella has a damn good go regardless. Figure I'll follow his lead after the couple 'a days I've had gettin' here."

He pours the two glasses full, sitting the empty bottle down on the floor. He offers one of the drinks my way. I gently refuse with a shake of the head, even if it does smell pleasantly fragrant and fruity. "I shouldn't - students aren't allowed to drink outside celebrations. Lady Rhea's rule. She's strict with it."

"But yer almost nineteen, Rolan. Figured ye'd be guzzlin' this stuff down by now."

I get the feeling you're stalling, Father. You always do this when there's something important afoot. I wish you wouldn't. If the air were any thicker in here you'd be able to cut it with a knife. "Pop, I'm fine. So, please... Tell me what's going on. Is mother coping well? What did the healers say when you brought them in? It's gotta be important for you to ride almost a hundred miles..."

The old bear's face falls into a deep frown. He necks both glasses of wine one after the other, gulping hard.

A shiver of dread crawls down my spine. I can't take this pressure anymore. Please, just tell me already!

"Father. Would you-"

And at that moment, his entire aura shifts. He grins proudly. "Ma's just fine. She's cured. _The fever's beat_."

My eyes dampen. A wave cooling relief washes my fears clean. Without thinking, I throw an arm around the Old Goat's back. A reluctant sob falls outta my mouth. I crunch my eyes shut in a vain effort at stopping my emotions getting the better of me.

It doesn't work. My tears fall free.

"Oh praise Sothis... Dammit, Pop. You made it sound like she was getting worse... You have idea how worried I was. "

Father smacks me on the back supportively. "Aye, ye wouldn't think it," he bellows with laughter, "Considering ye've not answered a single bloody letter since ye got here. That'll bloody teach ya fer not keepin' in touch. It's why I came here like I did. Yer Ma kept frettin'; she doesn't need it in her condition. Poor gal was fearful somethin' might 'a happened."

Well darn. He's travelled all the way here because of me. I couldn't feel worse if I tried. Yeah, I've been selfish, with everything; no doubts about it. Two wonderful lassies are fawning over me, and my folks haven't heard a word from their only son in months.

I look away shamefully. "Sorry, Pop. Honest truth? I've been reeling over your most recent letter for a while now. It's all I've thought about, to the point of obsession." If I'm gonna tell him how I feel, I'll tell him face-to-face. I lift my head, prepared; come what may. "I don't wanna return home if I can avoid it. I'd rather stray at Garreg Mach."

He's going to be annoyed with my reason for not writing home. It's inexcusable. I know-

"It's alright, Son, I get it," he answers with a sigh, patting my shoulder. "Trust me - I'd keep ye here if I could afford it..."

Well, I wasn't expecting an answer like that. But I'm relieved all the same.

"Thanks. I mean it. I didn't wanna to stress you, or mother. Sorry..."

Father chuckles warmly, waving away my apology, "It's all forgiven, lad. But at least ye owned up to being a bit of a selfish bugger." He snorts with laughter. "Aye, yer just like yer old man sometimes... Us Gesalts aren't a perfect bunch. I tells ya, I'm lucky to have a woman like yer mother in my life, given where I began."

Like father like son. Therein lies my jigsaw puzzle of a problem. While it's good knowing everything at home is fine and dandy, I have to sort my feelings with Dorothea and Hilda. It's not fair I hesitate any longer. Now I think about it, father's a married man. He's been with my mother for almost twenty years. If there's anyone who can aid with putting matters of relationships into perspective, he can.

"Hey... You mind if I ask your advice on something? I'm in a bit of a state right now. It involves women."

My admission gets father roaring with laughter. It's always a good day to get showered with spittle. I'll need a cloth by the time we're done. "Sure ye can, Rolan," he says with a devious smirk, "Ladies, eh? I hope ye've been behaving yerself."

Okay. Here goes nothing. I'll tell him everything - from start to finish. My time spent with Hilda and Dorothea; their attempts at helping me stay, all of it. "Behaving? Of course! But you'll need another bottle of wine to get you through. It's a long story."

Pop's eyes light up at the suggestion of more alcohol. "Hah! Tempting, but I've had enough. Tell you what, how about we grab some breakfast before ye tell this epic yarn? The archbishop's a kind woman. She said I could make myself at home 'till I hit the road back to Goneril." He pokes my stomach playfully. "Yer lookin' a little thin there, lad. C'mon now. Food first. Problems later. How 'bout it?"

This is a good opportunity for some quality time. I might not see my folks again for a while, depending on how everything turns out.

"Sure, Pop. Breakfast it is."

* * *

There are so many people in the dining hall at this hour. I'm almost caught off guard by how busy it is. The line to get your portion from the head chef is at least fifteen people long. There aren't many spare seats at a glance, either. I checked the time on the dusty old grandfather clock as we headed inside. It's just gone eight, which leaves most students around an hour until the professors hold combat checks for Sunday. In short? We're gonna have a nice long wait getting ahold of some breakfast.

Shame too. Buttery potatoes and over-easy eggs are two of my favorite things to tuck into on a busy morning.

"'Ey kiddo," Pop prods me in the bicep, "We're gonna need somewhere to sit." He points to the furthest corner of the room. "See over there? There's a few empty places. You get our food - I'll cover the rest."

"Sounds fine to me."

Father slaps me on the back; he heads off on a mission to secure seating.

Waiting in the long line of students is taking forever.

Thankfully, Raphael's standing ahead of me. Listening to his upbeat humming lifts my spirits some. "Oh boy," he drums his stomach. "Eggs over easy! Now this is my kinda breakfast. Could do with a little meat to buff my muscles, but other than that? Food fit for a king!"

I might try talking with the guy when I'm less occupied with family. They say he's a gentle giant. Given how nice he is to people in class, I'd say there's weight to those assumptions. He apparently has a younger sister; thinks the world of her, too.

Once I've picked up our food I return to father. There's barely a second between his plate touching the table and a declaration of battle against his eggs. He's always had a hearty appetite. I smile at his enthusiasm, digging in as well. Being able to enjoy a meal with the old man like this is nice.

I didn't realize how much I missed it until now.

"Hey Rolan," he glances over between forkfuls, "Mind passin' the salt shaker?"

"Salt shaker coming up."

"Thanking ye."

Very little beats a good meal. I've become too content with eating alone.

"Well hello there Rolan," Dorothea calls from behind. I was so busy eating I didn't notice her coming my way. She puts down her plate and pulls out the chair next to mine. Sitting down and getting comfy, she gifts me a wink. "I was hoping I'd find you."

"Morning Dorothea," I answer. Shuffling aside, I make space. "Here. Plenty of room."

My father clears his throat. He focuses on the songstress with intrigue. "Now then, Son... How about you introduce this polite young lass?"

Dorothea's eyes widen excitedly at Pop's rather tactless entry into the conversation, "Ah, so this is your father, Rolan?" Dorothea bows her head, gifting the old bear with her kindest smile of greeting. "My name is Dorothea Arnault, sir. A pleasure to meet you. I'm fondly acquainted with your son. In fact," she links her arm with mine. "Some would say we're courting."

Pop laughs heartily at Dorothea's open and bold admission. "A pleasure to meet ye, Miss Arnault. I go by the name Kojiro. Foreign name I know, but it's what I was born with. 'N might I say it's a right-old honor. I've heard all about ye. Who 'round these parts doesn't know of Mittlefrank's golden gal?"

"Why thank you," Dorothea replies merrily, "Are you here visiting, sir?"

"Aye lass. Ye'd be right." Pop shoots me a glance. "Came all the way from Garret Township in Goneril. Cuz a certain son 'o mine has a habit 'a not answerin' his letters from home. His ma was mighty worried, so I figured I'd beat some sense into the lad."

Pop and Dorothea are getting along like a house on fire. She's asking questions aplenty about my family life, especially how things are for us as a baking family by trade. Father being as outgoing as he is? He indulges the songstress gladly, without a care in the world. Dorothea's fixation on my home life is really quite sweet. She has a fondness for the simple things despite her life on the stage.

Once breakfast is done, Dorothea politely excuses herself and heads out for the day.

"How do ye have it rough will a gal like her holdin' yer arm?" asks father. "It's in her eyes. She adores ye."

A fair question. But one I can't answer here. Not in a room surrounded with people. Dorothea is content to share her feelings at this point, but my issues with the bigger picture remain unresolved. "Once we're back in the room I'll explain everything."

* * *

Away from those who would gossip, I prepare to tell father everything. He pops the cork on a fresh bottle of wine, sitting down at the foot of his bed. I wait for him to pour a fresh glass before getting started.

"Honest answer? She's not the only one I've been seeing."

"Another lass, eh?" Pop takes a sip of drink, carefully curious. "And who might this second one be? Gotta know you're not doin' anything too silly. Can't have my lad gettin in too much trouble."

I inhale and exhale; desperate to keep my composure. If my heart pounds any harder it'll shake my skull.

"Hilda. Lady Hilda Valentine of House Goneril..."

My father sprays his wine all over the velvet carpet. His eyes are wider than saucers. "Bloody hell, Rolan..." His lips lift into a nervy smile. "Dunno if I should be proud, or give ye a smack 'round the head fer being foolish." He leans nearer so that he may whisper. "Lord Goneril's only daughter... Duke Holst's precious sister? You wanna be real careful. Piss off a highborn and we're in trouble."

"I love her, Pop. I've not told her flat out, but I do. She promised I can serve as her bodyguard; she even petitioned Lady Rhea and asked if I can keep studying until the end of the year..."

The old man scoffs, "Bodyguard to a noble. It's what ye've always wanted. But what about Dorothea?"

I hold my head in my hands, sighing exhaustedly. "That's why I'm in a tight spot. I dunno what to do. I've been a real bastard."

"Language there, lad." Pop ruffles my hair reassuringly. "Looks like ye could use some advice from a bloke that's been here before. Ye know I weren't born in Fodlan. Name like mine makes it plain. 'Bout time I tell ye how I got here. Swore to yer mother I would one day, anyway."

Father's expression turns stern and serious. He pulls his hands away and swipes the wine bottle; he starts chugging. The whole damn thing's empty in a few blinks of an eye. "Right... I'll keep it quick. Long story short, Rolan; I was born in a distant country called Hoshido. For generations we'd been at war against a rival kingdom - Nohr... Dark times befell the land. Their king was a tyrant."

"Hoshido? Nohr? I've never heard those names before! Are they faraway nations like Brigid?"

"Lemme finish, lad."

"Okay... Go on."

"I found solace from the fightin' in the same gal as my brother - she was a beautiful shrine maiden called Kasumi. Thought the world of her, I did. So much so that my brother and I came to blows; it brought dishonour upon the family. I was young... stupid; I couldn't bare seein' them happy while I felt miserable; it cost me everything. The number one rule in Hoshido? Ye don't turn on yer family. In the end? Kasumi married my brother; she bore a young boy called Keiji. And I was exiled - stripped of me sword and cast through an otherworld gateway... It's how I ended up here."

I had no idea father's exotic name bore such painful beginnings. Dammit. The Old Goat looks like he's gonna cry.

I've gotta cheer him up.

How do I begin to respond to such an almighty revelation?

"Rolan..." Pop continues in a sharp breath. He thumps my arm strongly. "Reason I told ye 'bout that? You gotta be a man at a time like this. Stand tall. Do what I couldn't. Choose the girl yer heart beats for, and don't regret it. Stay strong; own yer choice. Ye hear me?"

He's right. I can't turn away from the matter at hand any longer.

"I appreciate you telling me about your home, Pop. And I'll do it. I'll do the right thing..." Best I lighten the mood from here on out. The last thing either of us needs is for the day to feel cloudy and overcast. "Will you be staying long?"

"'Till tomorrow mornin' I reckon. Why? Ye got somethin' in mind?"

"I'd like to show you around the monastery, if you're interested."

"Aye, that sounds a damn fine idea to me." Father stands tall - his usual cheery self again. "But on two conditions. Whichever of those lovely lassies you pick; bring 'em over for dinner sometime. And for goddess sakes boy; let me know if yer stickin' round for a while longer. Write home once in a while."

Both of those requests are fine by me. I need to better by my family.

"You have my word."

"Alright then! Then it's a deal. Off we go!"

My path ahead is clear. I've given dad my word, as one man to another.

I'll decide where my heart belongs tomorrow – after I return from Zanado.

Today? I'll make the most of family time.

It's the least I can do to thank Pop for helping get my head together.

**To be continued...**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The tale will continue with 'A Black Eagle Rises' soon! Be sure to check it out!

**Author's Note:**

> There you have it. Another tale comes to a close! Did you like it? Would you be interested in more stories in future? Feel free to leave some feedback and share your thoughts. Until next time, keep on supporting Fire Emblem. See you again soon!


End file.
